Keep One Eye on the Road 2nd in Season 11 Series
by CLK
Summary: Harm and Mac continue adjusting to life in london under a complex new case.
1. Chapter 1 thru 8

**Title: Keep One Eye on the Road**

**Background**: Follow up to end of Every Tom Dick and Crazy – Episode two in my version of season 11. Reading ETD&C first could be helpful, but like episodes, this story should stand mostly on its own.

**Summary: **Harm and Mac continue adjusting to life in London.

**Chapter 1**

**London**

**October 2005**

It had been an unusually pleasant fall day. A light sweater wasn't even necessary for going outdoors.

"Have you got any plans for your days off?" Mac asked Mattie from across the table.

"Well, some of the girls were wanting to go hang out at Barb's and have like a home spa day, but I'm just not into it." Mattie took another bite of the chicken Dijon.

"Sounds like fun. Why not?" Mac glanced sideways at Harm. Mattie had done really well with her physical therapy, and was now walking around with only the occasional use of a cane. The wheelchair had been in the closet on a permanent basis for almost a month. Still, something didn't seem right. Mac hadn't decided if it was just being in a new school in a foreign country, even though, technically, the American School in London was like any high school back home, or if maybe something more serious was troubling the young teenager.

"You're kidding? After five months of physical therapy, hot tubs and massages take on a whole new meaning." Mattie gave Mac that 'duh' look, as though it should have been obvious.

"Ah, I see." She really didn't, after all, what did manicures and pedicures have to do with physical therapy, but Mac sensed this was not the time to pursue it.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Sport, I can't imagine why anyone would want to hang around wearing oatmeal on their face anyhow." Looking up wide eyed at Mattie and Mac's glaring expressions, "What? That is what they do, isn't it?" Harm swallowed a laugh.

"Neveeerr miiindd." Mattie put her dish in the sink and headed for her room. "I think I'll go look for a rerun of JAG, then I can make fun of how SO not real it is. I mean really, the messes the leads get themselves into." Mattie walked away shaking her head.

Harm and Mac smiled knowingly at each other. If Mattie knew about one tenth of the scrapes they'd somehow gotten themselves into, she wouldn't be so quick to judge.

"Hey, hang on," Mac called over to Mattie. "I was thinking of doing something outside tomorrow. It's supposed to be a lovely day."

"Really? Like what?"

"Oh, maybe catch a train out of Victoria for one of those cute little out skirt towns, or even just walk around near Kensington Palace, do a little window shopping in the stores we can't afford."

"Yeah, sure. That sounds nice." Mattie wasn't really that excited about it, but she enjoyed Mac's company, and she had a much stronger appreciation for the privilege of being able to take long walks at will.

"Coffee?" Mac leaned over and kissed Harm on the cheek on her way to make a fresh pot.

"Thanks. That would hit the spot." Harm carried his plate to the sink. "I think James is determined to send me to an early grave."

"I thought you guys finally found a balanced working relationship?" Mac frowned, pulling out a couple of mugs.

"We did. Have. I don't know. I finally got used to her knowing what files I need before I ask, when I want a cup of coffee before I know I want a cup of coffee, and who I do and don't want to talk to." Harm watched Mac pour the dark brew into the two cups. Briefly he wondered how could anyone manage to make such an ordinary task appear so sexy. It was just coffee.

"But…"

"Now she can't remember a blessed thing," Harm spouted in exasperation, his mind let go of how Mac's long fingers moved from pot to mug, and returned to the problem at hand.

"What do you mean?" Mac started towards the living room.

"Well, for instance, this afternoon, she showed up with a cup of tea. I asked 'what's this?' She said, 'you wanted coffee.' Well, I hadn't wanted coffee, and even if I had, she brought me tea. I said, 'no thank you, but I wouldn't mind a fresh pitcher of water.' An hour later when I asked her about the water, she had absolutely no idea what I was talking about." Harm took a seat beside his wife, turning slightly to face her as they spoke.

"Well, that doesn't sound like the Beth James I know." Mac was as perplexed as Harm. "Do you think it's something serious? Does she have a boyfriend?"

"I have absolutely NO idea. All I know is she was turning into the best yeoman a CO could ask for and suddenly Snoopy seems more qualified." Harm took a long sip of the hot coffee, then set it heavily on the end table.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harm. Just because she forgot your water…"

"That was just this afternoon. This morning, when Admiral Ulrich stopped in, not only did she not realize he was coming, she didn't notice he was standing there, and when he finally cleared his throat to let her know he was waiting, she didn't come to attention."

"What?" Mac was floored by that lack of military protocol. It was so unlike Beth.

"Well, eventually she stepped to, but not before mumbling something unintelligible first."

"She wasn't insulting was she?" Mac slid her free hand onto Harm's lap.

"We have no idea. I thought she said 'six piece bird's nest,' and the Admiral thought she said 'chick peas and spices'." Harm picked up his mug for another sip, his other hand closing tightly around the hand his wife had so gingerly placed on his leg. Her concern for the petty officer warmed his heart. Her touch warmed his soul.

"How much trouble did she get into?"

"None. She managed to cover with an unusually contrite apology, and then I later mentioned to the Admiral that she'd been recently upset having to meet with Lt. Philips parents."

"Do you think that's it?" Mac pulled her leg up onto the sofa, tucking it agilely under her other leg.

"No, that was two weeks ago."

"Harm!" Mac's eyes flew open as wide as her mouth dropped at her husband's lie.

"Well, I didn't say how recently. I was hoping maybe you could talk to her." Harm's lower lip curled up awkwardly.

"Me?" Mac knew she wouldn't be able to resist that puppy dog look.

"Look, if I talk to her she's going to clam up. Besides being her CO, I'm also a man."

"Yeah, I noticed," Mac rolled her eyes suggestively, her fingers swirling small circles against his thigh.

"You're not helping," Harm clenched his jaw in mild frustration, but his eyes showed his amusement.

"Okay. I'll see what excuse I can come up with." Standing up with an empty mug in her hand, "I'm going to get another cup and take it to bed with a good book." Mac smiled softly as she slowly pulled her hand out of Harm's hold, a silent apology in her eyes. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty she couldn't be more intimate with her husband than a few stolen kisses and a tender moment holding hands.

"You do look better," Harm offered sweetly. He had been careful not to mention anything about the procedure she'd had to clear her tubes. The specialist at Lister Hospital thought having another laparoscopy to remove new scar tissue might help increase the chances of conception.

Neither had said much about the small increase in odds, or how uncomfortable Mac had been since the procedure last week. Having already been through it once, Harm and Mac were both prepared for the resulting discomforts. They also had silently agreed, that unless there was something new to discuss, it was easier simply not talking about it at all.

"Yeah, I do feel better." Mac put up a brave front. For a few minutes there, she'd forgotten about the last week of discomfort, and especially why she'd put herself through it again. She didn't hold up much hope that this was going to make much of a difference, but she was bound and determined to do anything that might increase the odds of sharing a biological child with Harm.

**Chapter 2**

**Next day**

**Outside Harrods**

"I can't believe you bought that bear," Mattie teased, following Mac down the road.

"It must be written somewhere that it's bad luck to leave Harrods without at least buying a bear," Mac insisted.

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure that must be the eighth deadly sin." Sometimes Mattie found it really hard to believe Mac was, or used to be, a Marine. "Hey. Look at this. Isn't it cool?"

"Sure, if you don't mind looking like you fell out of 1968." Mac would have made a lousy hippie. She didn't care for the tie dye look as a child, and she didn't like it any better now.

"How old are ARE you?" Mattie turned away from the window towards Mac.

"Not that old, but everyone remembers the sixties. Even you have to have seen film clips of people running around in green miniskirts with orange polka-dot blouses and white boots!"

"Yeah, I know. And love beads, and tie dye, and flower children. Okay... but I still think this outfit looks awesome." Mattie turned to follow Mac who had walked away from the window.

"Let's see if we can catch a cab." Mac stepped closer to the curb.

"Can we walk a little more?" Mattie almost whined.

"I don't want you to get too tired."

"I won't. Promise." Mattie drew an x across her heart.

"Okay, but if I think you're too tired. Then we stop."

"Yes, ma'am." Stopping suddenly, "Unless, you need to stop?" Mattie had been so focused on her own recovery, she'd forgotten about Mac's recent surgery, or that Mac might need to rest.

"I'm doing fine. I think the fresh air and exercise is actually helping." Mac took in a deep breath, flashing Mattie a reassuring smile.

A short distance down the street, they turned the corner onto a quaint row of shops.

"Well, isn't this different." Mac stopped in front of an old shop that reminded her somewhat of how she pictured Diagon alley in the popular Harry Potter books. The exterior of the old stone edifice hadn't changed much in the last hundred years or so, but through the dirty window, from what she could see, it appeared as though the inside hadn't changed much either.

"Heritage House? Sounds like a home for wayward…" Mattie paused.

"Wayward what?" Her hands still cupped to the glass where she had been peeking in, Mac turned wondering what was taking Mattie so long to finish her thought.

"I'm not sure, but wayward something," she giggled, realizing how silly that sounded.

"It looks like they research family genealogy. This could be fun." Mac nudged Mattie towards the door.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a warped perception of fun?"

The inside of the tiny shop was everything Mac had expected from her short glimpse. The walls were stacked with dust covered leather-bound volumes of all sizes. A narrow ladder rested along a brass bar the length of the room, a matching ladder could be seen on the opposite side. In the distance an enormous oak desk sat covered with piles of books.

Mac fully expected to see some decrepit old man akin to the ghost of Christmas past pop his head up over the edge of the highest book, but much to her surprise, from around the corner came a very tall, dark haired, handsome young man.

"May I help you ladies?" the young man's voice dripped with charm.

"We were curious to see what we might be able to find out about our family names," Mac volunteered.

"We don't get many Americans in here." With a proud strut that reminded Mac very much of the same aviator pride that Harm carried, the handsome man stepped around the counter nearer the front of the store.

"I am afraid we don't do those five minute generic copies you find in tourist stands, but we do offer a variety of services depending on your level of interest."

Mac moved closer to the counter, amused by the starry-eyed expression on Mattie's face. She honestly couldn't blame the girl, even the unattractive men seemed dreamy once they opened their mouths and the suave British accent rolled out.

Making an extra effort to focus on the sheet of paper the shopkeeper had placed in front of her, Mac resisted the urge to smack Mattie across the arm and tell her to close her mouth.

"This one wouldn't be so bad. Just enough background to satisfy my curiosity but not enough to bankrupt my husband," Mac smiled politely. "Would you like to do one for Johnson, or Grace?"

"Actually, I'd be more curious to see about Rabb." For the first time since entering the small store, Mattie shifted her attention to Mac.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I could care less about Johnson, and well, my mom's family history is recorded in surprisingly great detail in the family bible. The thing is huge." Mattie held her hands about 12 inches apart, vertically in front of her.

"Okay, Rabb and MacKenzie it is." Mac placed an order for the two family genealogies.

Carefully she filled out as much information as she could on the small questionnaire, looking forward to picking up the results in a few days.

Only six days later, Mac found herself curled up comfortably on the living room sofa with a fresh cup of tea, and the Heritage House report. Flipping through the pages, she was amazed at the long family history. From her father Joseph MacKenzie, they had managed to go back over two hundred years. The information was limited to names, date of birth, marriage, sporadic professions and occasional accolades, and children, but considering there had only been six days in which to do research, Mac was virtually flabbergasted with the wealth of information she held in her hand.

One entry in particular caught her attention as she slowly perused the pages.

Lieutenant Malcolm MacKenzie. Born 18th May 1774, Married Beatrice Eugenia Spencer 15th November 1800. Died under the command of Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson 2nd April 1801 (Battle of Copenhagen). Son Patrick MacKenzie born 23rd August 1801.

Mac chuckled softly to herself. Boy, was Harm going to get a kick out of this. Her only ancestor with any apparent military background and he turns out to be a squid.

**JAG Headquarters **

**London**

**1030 hours Monday **

Mac was feeling rather up this morning. She'd come across an advertisement in the paper announcing the last weeks of a special exhibition on Nelson and Napoleon at the National Maritime Museum. Ever since discovering that she had an ancestor in the British Navy who had served under Horatio Nelson, she found herself intrigued by the historical aspects of the Royal Navy. This seemed like an incredible opportunity to discover more about her ancestors.

"Is he busy?" Mac stopped at Beth James' desk, knowing full well that Harm was planning on being busy until she had a chance to chat with Beth again.

"Yes, ma'am. He's on the phone with Admiral Ulrich. He asked if you could wait just a few minutes."

Mac immediately noticed the awkwardness and nervousness, which still plagued the petty officer as she spoke to her. This was extremely out of character. When Beth raised her arm to indicate a chair for Mac to have a seat, Mac had to practically dive to stop the large cup of coffee from spilling all over Beth's paper laden desktop.

"Oh, sorry, ma'am. I don't know what's the matter with me." Beth retrieved the cup from Mac's tentative grip, first pulling a napkin from her desk drawer to wipe up the few errant drops of coffee that had spilled on Mac's hand and the desk.

"Don't worry about it, Beth, are you sure there isn't something you'd like to talk about? If you need an ear, I'm a good listener." Mac specifically chose to use the Petty Officer's given name. She didn't do it often, at least not in the office, but taking a lesson from AJ, she made another attempt at resolving Harm's dilemma. She'd tried speaking to the petty officer a few days earlier and found her in a completely befuddled state. She had been totally unable to obtain any information at all for Harm.

"Thank you, ma'am. That's very nice of you, but there's nothing really," Beth smiled sweetly, trying to appear more in control of her emotions than she was.

It was obvious to Mac she wasn't going to get much further with the upset Petty Officer than she had previously. Whatever was troubling her, she wasn't ready to share yet.

"The Captain's birthday is next week. If your schedule isn't too full, perhaps you could help organize a small celebration. Nothing formal, something here at the office."

"Yes, ma'am. Of course. Anything at all."

"Very well, I'll think through what I want to do and get back to you." Originally they hadn't planned on doing anything for Harm's birthday at the office, but they decided under the circumstances this might kill two birds with one stone. She would be able to have more frequent conversations with the Petty Officer, and Harm could develop a better rapport with some of the junior officers.

Harm had finished his conversation and now felt like a complete idiot standing with his ear pressed against his door, trying desperately to make out what the PO and his wife were discussing.

"The light on his phone line is out. Shall I see if he's free?" Beth asked as she took her seat.

"Thank you," Mac nodded.

Before Beth could announce Mac's presence, Harm swung the heavy door open.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting long," he smiled in Mac's direction, holding the door for her.

"Not at all."

Mac followed Harm into the office. When the door latched closed behind her, she turned to Harm chuckling. "What were you doing, listening through the keyhole?"

"Something like that." Taking in how beautiful Mac looked, Harm stepped invasively into her space, forgetting all about the reason he'd asked her to come. "I don't recall having time this morning for a proper good bye."

"No, I was in the shower when you left." Mac's lower lip twitched in anticipation of where this little conversation was going.

"I guess I'll just have to make up for it with a proper hello." Pulling her fully into his arms, Harm settled his lips firmly on her mouth, in what would most definitely be considered an inappropriate kiss for the office.

In only a few seconds, Mac had gone weak in the knees, almost forgetting where they were. "Remind me to miss a few proper good byes more often," she smiled lazily, still dazed from the loving gesture.

"If you liked that, wait till I can really show you a proper hello." Pulling her close again for one more, short kiss, Harm willingly accepted he had to be the luckiest man on earth.

**Chapter 3**

**National Maritime Museum**

**Greenwich**

Mac strolled the ancient corridors in fascination. There was no way she would be able to take in all the treasures and artifacts available in a lone afternoon. Another day would most definitely be required to satisfactorily appease her curiosity.

She sat on a nearby bench mesmerized by John Bettes' portrait of Elizabeth I. Mac had come in search of some connection to her ancestor through Nelson, but found herself momentarily distracted by the powerful presence this historical woman held, even in art. Mac contemplated what kind of woman Elizabeth must have been to have ruled the most powerful nation in the world during the male dominant world of the sixteenth century.

Ready to move on to the manuscript parlor, Mac stood up and turned, unaware of the slight young man who, walking backwards, was still admiring the large royal portrait.

Stepping heavily on an obviously soft, human, foot, Seaman Thomas Moore turned in a panic.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I am so sorry," he pleaded. "I should have been paying more attention."

Catching her balance against the bench, Mac looked at the frightened young man. "I wasn't paying attention either. It's pretty impressive, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am." The young man glanced longingly up at the larger than life portrait.

"There's a lot of fascinating things here, but from now on you may want to try and keep at least one eye on the road," Mac suggested humorously, straightening her outfit before making her way to the next hall.

Mac had not realized that the Royal Naval Museum, and the National Maritime Museum had been involved in a massive search of archives to locate previously unpublished material for the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar. The result of several years' efforts was well over 1300 new documents, some of which included sets of letters of different crewmembers while they served under Nelson.

Scanning the names of sailors whose letters had been located, Mac was astounded to see the name, Lieutenant Malcolm MacKenzie on the list. Slowly searching the protective cases, she carefully took in the different names. Having moved further down the hall, her eyes still on the cases, Mac felt a hard mass bump up against her.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I … I was just looking at the letters and guess I… I forgot to watch the road," he blushed bashfully.

"You realize we're going to have to stop meeting like this or people are going to talk."

"NO, Ma'am," the wide-eyed young man shook his head, horrified at the implication.

"Relax…" Mac waited for some hint of who she was talking to.

"Thomas."

"Relax, Thomas. I was only kidding," Mac suddenly felt sorry for the bashfully uncoordinated kid.

"Oh, thank you ma'am. I don't run into many fellow Americans, and I have a hard time telling when the Brits are joking around," Thomas let out a slow sigh of relief.

"Where are you from?" Mac tried to put Thomas at ease.

"Yonkers, New York."

"And you're a naval history buff?"

"Any kind of history, ma'am, but especially British Naval history. My dad gave me all the Horatio Hornblower books to read as a kid, and ever since, I can't get enough of the real history. I've been coming here whenever possible, ever since the exhibit opened. There's so much," he chatted excitedly.

"Well, don't let me hold you up," Mac smiled.

"Thank you, ma'am." Thomas turned on his heel and continued reading the displays with fascination.

Mac on the other hand needed to get back to the house. Mattie would be home from school by now, and she had a date with a dashing sailor she didn't want to be late for.

**Rabb flat**

**Later that night **

Mac set her book down on her lap and watched Harm move about distractedly in the kitchen.

"What are you still doing in there?"

"Sorry, thought I'd wipe the counter down." Harm tossed the sponge into the sink.

"You did that after dinner, and again ten minutes ago. What's got you so restless?" Mac shifted on the sofa, patting the empty space next to her.

"Nothing really. It's just, things could be easier."

Unable to resist laughing out loud, "Okay, now tell me something I don't know."

"James asked for a couple of personal days. I'm not sure if I looked at her cross-eyed or if she just knew what I was thinking, but she added it was for medical reasons so I couldn't very well say no. She left today at lunchtime."

"So who's in the front office?"

"Ensign Barnes." Harm pulled Mac's legs over his lap, and began mindlessly massaging her calves.

" An officer? Isn't that rather unusual?"

"There weren't many options, and Barnes was nice enough to volunteer." Harm found himself slowly unwinding with the feel of Mac's soft skin under his fingertips. He had no idea how he had managed to live so close to her for so many years without being free to show her the simplest form of affection.

"Is he any good?"

"He's okay. The job is pretty straightforward, but we're already short staffed. Meg is only going to be TAD a few more weeks, and I still don't see any sign of Lt. Philips replacement arriving very soon."

"I thought the reason Meg's assignment was extended was to be here until Philips replacement arrived?" Mac snuggled down into the sofa, resting her head back, thoroughly enjoying the relaxing atmosphere. It was a little selfish of her, but she loved the feel of Harm's touch, and she desperately missed the intimacy. She had a follow up appointment with Dr. Rovner in a few days and would hopefully be cleared for 'all' activities. Even though she'd felt up to it, Harm wasn't willing to take any chances setting her health back, and she had to agree, being able to eventually conceive meant too much to them.

"That was the plan, but she absolutely has to be back at Pearl when the XO starts maternity leave. The office just never seems quite in step. I haven't figured out where the missing link is yet. Then keep in mind that I don't have any attorneys with much investigation experience, except for Meg of course, and she's not staying." Lifting up one of Mac's knees, Harm began gently kneading her foot. "I keep praying we'll get someone with enough savvy to take second in command, but I'm not holding my breath."

"So besides an XO, you really need someone to beef up the office, and if that someone happened to have investigative skills?" Mac opened one eye at Harm.

Harm recognized the gleam in Mac's eye. It always followed a brilliant idea. As if reading a neon sign, Harm suddenly realized whom she meant. "You don't think?"

"It's worth a shot. You could request him TAD ASAP, and if it pans out, make it permanent," Mac shrugged.

"I don't know, he wanted to be at the front. An office will seem pretty boring after Afghanistan and Paraguay," Harm winced softly, he hadn't meant to bring up Paraguay. It was a painful part of their past, one they preferred to leave alone.

"He has to rotate out at some point. It's worth a try, he can't stay at the front lines forever," Mac pointed out, ignoring the mention of Paraguay. Some things were better left alone.

"Yeah," Harm smiled broadly, "It is worth a try. What have you got there?" he noticed the book that had fallen to the side of the sofa.

"Oh, I picked it up today at the museum. Remember I told you about that ancestor who served under Nelson?" Mac had let her head fall back against the armrest again, her eyes shut in a pleasantly relaxed state as Harm continued his soothing ministrations.

"Mm hmm. How was it?"

"Very interesting, even with the young kid who kept bumping into me."

"Bumping into you?" Harm's fingers stopped for a moment as he glanced curiously at his wife.

"It wasn't anything. He was so engrossed in the exhibition he wasn't watching where he was going. I'm pretty sure he's military."

"What makes you say that?" Harm started rubbing her legs again.

"Besides the fact that just about his every sentence ended with ma'am? The dead give away was when he walked away. He tapped that toe behind him and spun to his right with the precision of someone who has had many hours of practice. Not sure if he's Navy or Marine, but my guess would be Navy. Too timid for a Marine."

"Timid, huh?" Harm raised one eyebrow impishly.

"Reminded me a bit of Tiner," Mac smiled softly at the memory of the one time Petty Officer.

"I see. So, what's the book?"

"Well, it turns out my great whatever's letters are some of the ones on display, and a few are in this book the museum's published with thousands of letters to and from Nelson. Several of the letters are from his crew to their families. It's an interesting depiction of life on a ship in the nineteenth century. The letters from his mistress are pretty hot for the 1800's," a hint of a smile curled into view.

"Hot, huh?" This time the suggestive glint in his eye emphasized the arch in his brow.

Without opening her eyes, Mac could hear the expression on his face, her smile blossoming into a satisfied grin, "Mm hmm."

"It's getting late. I'd better check if Mattie needs help with her homework, and then I'm going to call it a night." Harm stopped rubbing Mac's leg and lightly let one finger doodle softly up the side of her knee. "Care to join me?"

"Try and keep me away." Mac practically sprang off the sofa and followed Harm down the hall.

Snuggled comfortably in bed, waiting for Harm to finish helping Mattie with her Calculus, Mac picked up the book:

"My dearest Beatrice,

Know that it is only duty that can tear me away from you as it did this morning. As I write this to you, we await the arrival of the Captain, but the rumor on the gun deck is that we are for some distant, important destination."

**Chapter 4**

**Royal Maritime Museum**

**Next day**

Mac had found herself back at the museum bright and early the next day enjoying all the archives had to offer. The letters from her ancestor had her curiosity piqued. She wanted to see and understand as much as she could about the world he lived in.

Walking along the corridor displaying uniforms from different periods in Nelson's career, Mac wasn't surprised when she heard a loud crash and looked up to find the same young man from the day before. Only a few feet away, he had frantically straightened a large trash can, and was now returning the varied contents that had spewed across the floor to their rightful place.

"I thought I told you to keep one eye on the road?" Mac bent down to join the young man and one of the guards who was also helping pick up the trash.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I tried to be careful, really I did."

"The rubbish bin's nothing. You should have been here last week when the lad fell into the pipe display. We were all surprised he hadn't broken his neck," the guard volunteered.

Standing up as the last remnant of trash was tossed into the receptacle, Mac debated asking the young man if he was a sailor or a marine.

"Thank you very much, ma'am. It was very nice of you to help. You too, sir." Thomas turned to the guard.

"Just do as the lady says and next time keep your eyes on the road." Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the older guard returned to his post.

"I really am sorry. I don't know why I keep bumping into people and things, I never do that on duty."

"Duty?"

"Yes, ma'am. Seaman Thomas Moore, United States Navy." Clicking his heels he stood proudly at attention.

"At ease, Seaman," Mac chuckled softly at the young man's exuberance.

"Ma'am?" Shifting to at ease, Thomas looked at Mac curiously. Civilians didn't make it a habit to tell him to stand at ease.

"I guess we haven't been properly introduced. Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, United States Marine Corps, Reserves," Mac extended her hand, smiling at the wide-eyed look the young sailor gave her.

Thomas wanted desperately to say something but his mouth simply wouldn't cooperate. Not only had he bumped into this nice woman one time too many, but this nice woman was an officer, a Colonel.

"Are you okay?" Mac finally asked, concerned with the slight hint of green rising up his face.

"Yes, Colonel, ma'am," he squeaked softly, swallowing the huge lump in his throat.

"Thomas, why don't you just call me Mrs. Rabb. I stopped using the Colonel when I left JAG."

"You're a lawyer ma'am?"

"That's right. Here, why don't you sit down on that bench a minute and take a deep breath." Mac nudged the young man towards the nearest bench. She wasn't quite sure what to do with him. He was obviously feeling overly flustered at her rank. Though there really wasn't any reason for her to stay, she somehow felt like leaving him in this state would be tantamount to leaving a man behind.

"Can I get you something? A bottle of water maybe?"

"No, thank you, ma'am. I'm fine, really I am."

"Are you sure, you're okay?" His color was slowly returning to normal, but Mac still wasn't convinced.

"Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Rabb. I need to be getting back to the base soon anyway. I need to be on duty early at 1400."

"If you're sure." Mac took a tentative step towards the display she'd originally been interested in, still watching the young sailor out of the corner of her eye. He'd stood up looking around the room as though searching for something in particular. She was just about to turn around and see what he needed when she saw the light of recognition dawn in his expression. He had apparently left his blue navy issue peacoat on the floor near the case he'd been admiring when he not so graciously knocked over the trash can.

Mac kept an eye on Thomas as he quickly put on his coat and hurried out the nearest doorway. She certainly hoped he wasn't that clumsy on duty. Actually, now that she thought about it, she hoped he didn't have anything to do with munitions.

**London Headquarters**

**Tea Room**

Harm had finally figured out that the best way to get a decent cup of coffee was to simply get it himself. He had no idea until now how much he had come to depend on Petty Officer Elizabeth James for the simpler things. Her uncanny ability to bring him a cup of coffee at the precise moment he craved a cup, was right up there on the list of life's mysteries with Mac's ability to tell time without a watch, and after less than two days, he missed the petty officer terribly.

"You look like something the cat dragged in." Suddenly remembering this was not just her long time friend strolling into the break room, but her CO. Meg added quickly, "Sir."

"Gee thanks, I really needed to hear that." If his day hadn't already been infernally long, he probably would have found it in him to laugh openly.

Setting his mug on the counter, Harm began opening all the cabinet doors in the tiny cubby before turning to Meg in frustration. "Where do they keep the sugar?"

She hesitated a fraction of a second before picking up the sugar bowl beside the cup he had just set on the counter. "You mean this?"

"Thank you, Commander." Harm reached across for the coffeepot, ignoring Meg's quiet snicker.

"Anything I can help with?" she ventured carefully, getting a container of milk from the refrigerator.

"I don't suppose you can teach Ensign Barnes how to make a decent cup of coffee, or how not to patch absolutely EVERYONE who calls my office through to me?"

"Busy day?"

"I think it would be safe to say I took Petty Officer James' ability to screen calls for granted."

"How is she doing?" Meg handed Harm the milk container.

"I honestly don't know. She requested two personal days, but implied it was for medical reasons. Hopefully, I'll know more when she returns tomorrow."

"Well, if nothing else, you'll be able to get a decent cup of coffee tomorrow." Meg watched as Harm twirled a coffee stirrer in his mouth. She recognized that nervous habit of his. Whenever they'd had a tough case and Harm couldn't quite figure out why something didn't seem right, he would chew those little plastic sticks into confetti.

"How's the Anderson situation?" Harm asked unexpectedly.

"Fine. Perkins is taking a plea bargain," Meg smiled.

"I see." Harm had suspected Perkins didn't have the backbone for a good defense attorney. This would be the fourth defense case in a row that he plead out. Something was going to have to be done.

**Bachelor Enlisted Quarters**

**Kennington Southeast London**

**Later Tuesday night**

Beth dropped her keys on the rickety table as she walked in the door. She had been poked, prodded, and pricked for the better part of two days. Now she was supposed to relax and take it easy until all the results were in. Ha! That was certainly easier said than done.

Having practically fallen into the lumpy easy chair in the tiny living room, Beth curled her foot around the leg of the coffee table and pulled it up closer to use as a footrest. This had been the longest two weeks of her life. Stretching her arm out she retrieved the silver frame. She didn't even need to look to see where it was on the end table. It had become her daily ritual to settle into the comfort of the uncomfortable chair and pick up the memory filled photograph. Greg had been one of the nicest guys she'd ever dated. The six months he'd been stationed here in London had definitely been fun. She'd been here for ages and it wasn't until she met Greg that she actually ventured outside of London to explore the rest of England.

This was by far her favorite photograph. It was taken that weekend in Bury St. Edmonds. Greg had insisted on having a drink in the smallest pub in England. Well, he and every other tourist in town had the same idea about fitting into the tiny space. After finally getting his wish, he asked one of the other tourists to take their picture in front of the Nutshell Pub. When they went to snap the photo, Greg swooped her up into his arms. She was laughing so hard all you could see was her head thrown back, her mouth wide open, and her long hair hanging loosely behind her. Greg on the other hand had a grin on his face that seemed to be the personification of the cat that had swallowed the canary. He'd carried her down the street and around the block to the Angel hotel. She knew he couldn't afford it, but it hadn't mattered to him. He had pulled out all the stops that weekend. She felt like the heroine in a romantic novel being swept off her feet in every sense of the word.

He had taught her so much about living for the day and enjoying life. If he hadn't been around when Captain Rabb first arrived, she surely would have fallen apart at the seams those first two days.

She knew when he got his orders to Iraq that it might be rough, but she hadn't expected this. She'd read the letter over and over so often that her tears left the paper a mere shadow of its former self. It hadn't helped that she'd crumpled and thrown it across the room as many times as she'd sobbed herself to sleep reading it.

It didn't seem fair. No family at home, only a few close friends, and the woman he claimed to love couldn't even fly home for the funeral.

(Small article on Nutshell Pub -http/ Headquarters 

**Three days later**

Mac turned the corner towards Harm's office, surprised to see Petty Officer James already rising from her chair to stand at attention. Apparently, whatever had her radar out of kilter, was now back in commission.

"At ease, Beth," Mac was sure she wouldn't be able to get Beth to stop reacting to her officer status anymore than she could get Bud and Harriet to call her by her first name when they were off duty.

"Yes, ma'am. Everything has been arranged just the way you asked."

"Excellent. Thank you. I gather whatever had you upset last week has been taken care of?"

"No, ma'am. That is, I mean…" Beth couldn't find the words. She'd thought she'd finally gotten a handle on all her emotions and with a simple comment from Mrs. Rabb, everything came flooding back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Mac placed her hand on the Petty Officer's shoulder.

"Thank you, ma'am. It's fine." Beth pressed her lips tightly together. She was NOT going to cry in front of her CO's wife. She simply wasn't.

"Obviously something has been bothering you, and whatever it is, it's still got you upset. I don't want to push, but I'm willing to listen if it will help."

Tears rolled slowly down Beth's cheek at this woman's concern. "Oh blast, I swore I wasn't going to cry anymore." Beth fumbled through her desk for a tissue.

"What is it?" Mac leaned against the desk and urged Beth to sit back down.

"Oh, ma'am. I have fibroid cysts. I've had them for years. I take birth control pills and vitamin B to help prevent them and don't drink caffeine or eat chocolate. Well, not much anyway." A glint of a smile almost appeared on the young woman's face.

"Go on," Mac encouraged, a knot in her stomach tightening.

"Recently, I've been having more trouble than usual with cysts, well, especially in my breasts, ma'am. They've been heavy and painful and I can feel at least two rather large cysts. The doctor implied that my renewed problems might indicate the need for more invasive treatment, so he sent me for some tests the other day." Looking up at Mac in almost a panic. "If he's right I might need up to six weeks bed rest! Ma'am, all I have back home is my mom, and she's in no condition to take care of me." Beth almost broke down in tears again, sucking in her lower lip, and taking a deep breath, she swallowed the threatening sob, softly repeating, "six weeks bed rest."

"Haven't they gotten the results back to you yet?" Mac was suddenly flooded with vivid memories of how quickly Bethesda was able to diagnose her condition. She had to remind herself that not all hospitals, or countries for that matter, do things the same. It took all her marine training not to join Beth in her tears.

"The lab somehow lost my blood work. I went this morning to be re-tested, but now the doctor wants me to be tested again on Monday to compare the samples. The other tests are inconclusive without the complete blood workup." Beth took another deep breath. Mrs. Rabb was right, just finally being able to tell someone what was going on made her feel better, even if she hadn't told Mrs. Rabb any details about the threat of surgery or the loss of Greg.

"Beth if you need any help at all, with anything, I expect you to come to me or Captain Rabb." Mac reached over and gave her another tissue to replace the one Beth had slowly shredded with her nervous fidgeting.

"I appreciate the offer ma'am. I'm sure everything will be okay." Beth straightened her shoulders some. "I'll be fine now. Thank you."

"I've had female procedures in my past too, and I can certainly empathize with your fears. I have an appointment this afternoon, but if you'd like to talk some more later, I'd be happy to make time." Mac's heart ached for the young girl. She knew exactly what kind of fear Beth must be going through. She hadn't mentioned what sort of invasive treatment was being suggested, but Mac could tell from her tone it had to be serious, especially if it required six weeks bed rest. The last words resounded in Mac's head for just a moment. The light bulb of recognition going off just as Beth spoke.

"No, ma'am. I feel much better now, thank you." Taking one more deep breath, she continued, "I've ordered the cake you requested, carrot. I've also rearranged a few non-essential meetings to make sure everyone is free for at least thirty minutes. The use of the conference room is also confirmed," Beth already felt more like her old self again.

"I knew I could count on you. Thank you again, and remember, I'm here if you need me." Mac felt more confident that if Beth needed someone to confide in again, she just might be willing to approach her, at least Mac hoped so. Seeing Beth press the intercom button to notify Harm of her arrival, Mac stepped over towards the door waiting for Beth's nod that it was okay to enter before pushing the heavy door inward.

"You're here just in time to celebrate." Harm stood up as Mac approached his desk. Resisting the urge to pull her into his arms for a longer, proper hello, he settled for a quick kiss on the lips.

"What are we celebrating?" Mac took a seat across from Harm.

"I got word today from COMUSNAVEUR. Gunny's TAD has been approved, effective immediately. Help should be here bright and early Monday morning," Harm smiled happily.

"Oh, that's wonderful news." Mac had known from her conversations with Harm over the last couple of days that Gunny was due to rotate out of his detachment, but there had been no indication of whether or not Harm's request was feasible.

"Now if I can convince Gunny and the Admiral to make the TAD permanent, then all I'd need is to get a couple of lawyers and all would be right with the world."

"I thought you only needed one to replace Mary."

"Mac, face it, except for Meg, none of the lawyers around here are very diversified. Perkins does fine if he's on the prosecution. He goes after the defendant with the fervor of a pit bull, but put him on the defense and he rolls over and plays dead."

"That's not the end of the world. In most JAG offices lawyers do one or the other, but not many wear all hats the way the admiral had us work."

"I know, but it's not fair to the poor kid who gets stuck with a prosecution attorney because all my other lawyers are overworked. And once Meg is gone, the only one with even a clue of how to handle an investigation is going to be Gunny, and he can only do what's asked of him. He certainly can't tell a superior officer what to order him to do." Harm ran his fingers through his hair. Getting Gunny under his command would only be part of the solution. He needed an XO, and one other well-rounded, experienced attorney.

"Well, I just had a short chat with Beth. She seems to be doing better, at least on the surface, and I think I solved your mystery about 'six piece bird's nest' versus 'chick peas and spices'." Mac quickly juggled around in her mind how much information she should divulge to Harm about Beth's condition.

"And that would be?"

"Her doctor told her that possible medical treatment of a condition she's had for some time could require six weeks bed rest," Mac smiled, quite pleased with herself.

"Well, you're right. She seems to be almost back to her old self, but for her sake as well as mine, I certainly hope whatever's wrong with her doesn't come down to that. Six weeks with Ensign Barnes and I might go mad," Harm tried to laugh off the possibility.

Before Harm could ask Mac what she meant by Beth appeared to be doing better 'on the surface,' the intercom buzzed.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I have Inspector Baskin on the line. He says it's important."

"Put him through, Petty Officer." Harm stabbed at the button on his phone.

"Yes, Baskin. What can the Navy do for you today?" Harm made no attempt to sound friendly.

"It seems there has been a theft at the National Maritime Museum. Some very valuable letters from the Admiral Nelson exhibition were taken late yesterday afternoon. Most likely just before the museum closed."

"And Scotland Yard would like the US Navy to solve this case for you too?"

"Thank you for the offer, but that won't be necessary. We already know who the culprit is. It seems he was not smart enough to avoid the closed circuit TV cameras. The entire episode was caught on tape."

"Well, if that's the case then why are you calling me?"

"Apparently he is in the United States Navy."

"Apparently? You're not sure?" Harm couldn't help the hint of accusation in his tone.

"The security guards recognized the suspect from the CCTV footage. He is in your Navy." Baskin sat back slightly satisfied at the silence on the other end of the phone. Rabb had given him nothing but attitude ever since Mary Philips was murdered.

"Very well, I'll arrange to have him transferred into our custody. I'm assuming you're not going to insist this be handled in the local court system?" Harm wondered if Baskin was simply gloating. There was no need to call him for a simple brig transfer.

"No, we just want to recover the stolen goods. You are welcome to try him in the military system."

"I'll see to it that Petty Officer James arranges for the transfer of custody."

"Actually, Captain, we don't have him in custody yet."

"I see. You want us to apprehend him."

"Not exactly."

Harm was beginning to lose patience with this little cat and mouse word game.

"What exactly do you need?"

"Your wife. That is, to speak with her. While we know who the suspect is, we lack his name. The security guards were able to recognize the chap from the CCTV tape. Unfortunately, all we know about him is that he is an American, and his coat indicates he is in your Navy."

"I'm sorry, did you say his coat?"

"That's correct," Baskin added rather smugly.

"Don't tell me a coat is all you have to identify him. Even to you that should seem like pretty flimsy evidence for assuming he's in the Navy." What was this man trying to pull now? Harm wondered.

"Your wife will be able to settle any doubts."

"Why would Mac know anything more than you do?" Harm wasn't at all happy with the direction this conversation was taking.

"Well, my good Captain, it seems that our thief and your wife are rather good chums."

**Chapter 6**

"How dare you imply my wife had anything to do with this!" Harm's voice could be clearly heard past Beth's desk and halfway through the bullpen.

"I'm not implying any such thing. The security staff and video cameras show that your wife interacted with the suspect on more than one occasion, and one guard in particular felt fairly certain the two had made introductions."

"Interacted?"

"Do you prefer conversed?"

"I'd prefer it if Scotland Yard solved their cases without involving my wife." Despite not being particularly happy at the detective's implications, Harm was quickly accepting the reality that if Mac did know anything, she was duty bound to help Baskin. No matter how distasteful Harm found the idea. Sighing audibly into the phone, "Very well, we can meet in my office at..." Harm looked at his watch, then up at his wife. "1330."

Mac nodded her agreement. That would give them enough time for the birthday celebration with the staff and then a quick lunch before she'd have to leave for her appointment with Dr. Rovner. She wasn't able to put all the pieces together, but it was fairly obvious from what little she had heard that her presence was being requested.

"Captain, time is of the essence. Would half an hour be enough time for your wife to be able to meet with us?"

"That won't work. We're on our way out the door."

"Excellent! I'm just around the corner. Be there in a mo."

Harm looked at his watch again. "Around the corner?"

"Already entering the building. Be right there." Baskin snapped his phone off before Rabb could argue. It probably would have been more up front if he had mentioned he had actually rung from in front of the Rabb residence, but somehow he hadn't thought it prudent to disclose that information until he was sure of Mrs. Rabb's whereabouts.

Mac recognized the look on Harm's face. What ever Baskin had said, she wouldn't want to be in his shoes when Harm met up with him. As she watched Harm set the receiver down, she would have been willing to testify in court she could see steam coming from his ears.

"Not good?" she tested.

"He's on his way up." Harm took a deep breath. Maybe he could get rid of Baskin quickly enough to still be on time for the special staff call Mac had planned.

"Harm. It's not his fault Mary died." Mac was taking her life into her hands broaching that particular subject. Stepping closer to her husband, she gently laid her palm flatly on his chest. "Mary was too close to finding the truth. Kathy would have gotten to her no matter who Mary was partnered with." Letting her hand slide away slowly, she let if fall on his, "Give him another chance."

Before Harm could answer either way his intercom buzzed, undoubtedly announcing the detective's arrival.

"Send him in," Harm spat, not giving James enough time to announce the visitor. Watching as the door cracked open. "Make this quick, my staff is expecting me in fifteen minutes."

"Good to see you again, too, Captain." Baskin stepped over to Mac and nodded. "Sorry to take up your time Mrs. Rabb, but it appears you have information we need. Shall we sit down?" Baskin turned waiting for Harm to offer him a seat.

"Fine, have a seat." Harm waved at the chairs in front of his desk. "As I said, we're expected elsewhere."

"Yes, Inspector. What is it you need from me?" Mac added with a tad more patience than Harm was showing.

"As I told the Captain, some important documents were stolen from a display at the National Maritime Museum yesterday afternoon. Shortly before closing, an obnoxious odor began filling the hall. The museum was in the process of being evacuated when one of the guards noticed an odd mist filling one of the cases. It was decided for safety reasons to remove the documents immediately to safekeeping."

"I fail to see what this has to do with Navy personnel if the museum guards were the last to have possession of the property," Harm interrupted impatiently.

"Closed circuit television tapes viewed this morning showed a young man hovering over the cases shortly before the odor began. The young man placed something into his right hand coat pocket. Upon closer inspection we were able to make out what appeared to be a syringe. We suspect it was used to inject the smoke generating gas through the rubber seal."

"Unless your video showed this same man carrying off the stolen property. You still haven't proven anything even close to circumstantial." Harm wasn't going to let Baskin railroad a young sailor.

"Captain, the security guards recognized the suspect as the same young man who has spent at least a little time at the musuem almost every day for the last two weeks. He is the only person seen on the CCTV tapes entering or leaving the building in a Navy issue peacoat."

A small knot began to twist in Mac's stomach. She was now all too aware of where this conversation was going.

"A few days ago you were seen talking to him on more than one occasion, Mrs. Rabb. The guard in question thinks the young man introduced himself to you."

"I did converse briefly with an American sailor, but I can assure you the young man who I spoke with wouldn't be capable of something like this."

"I suggest you just give us the sailor's name and let us decide the rest."

Mac glanced briefly at Harm, sighing quietly at his affirmative nod. " Seaman Thomas Moore."

Harm stabbed at the intercom, "James, I need you to get me the current posting on a Seaman Thomas Moore."

"I'll want to be present for questioning," Baskin added quietly.

Harm nodded. He didn't like it, but he had no grounds to object, yet.

**Lister Hospital **

**1530 later that day**

"Looking good, Mrs. Rabb," Dr Rovner smiled, gently tapping Mac's knees. "Any discomfort?"

"No."

"Continued bleeding?"

"Not for almost a week."

"I would say things look almost as good as new."

"Almost?"

"You do understand this disease is not reversible? Permanent damage is just that, permanent."

"Yes, but what do you think my odds of conception are now?"

"I think we can safely presume 25, perhaps 30." Dr. Rovner removed his gloves and pushed his chair back from the exam table. "Don't look so disappointed. Those are really much improved odds."

"I know. I'm not disappointed."

"Then why so grim?" Dr. Rovner didn't believe in pulling any punches. If he felt his patients were unsettled, he did his best to reassure them. Fear and anxiousness could be as much of a deterrent to conception as the actual disease.

"Just trying to be realistic."

"Well, don't. Don't rely too heavily on the odds. All healthy women of early child bearing years have the same odds of conception, and yet some women conceive after one try, and others after as long as two years. Odds mean very little. What is important is that it is no longer impossible." The doctor smiled as broadly as he could, trying to encourage his patient.

"When... when would it be okay to start, you know, trying?" Mac tried not to blush.

Dr Rovner's eyes twinkled merrily. He could see Mac's attitude slowly coming around. "As long as it does not bring you any physical discomfort, you could start now if you like."

"And if it does bring ...discomfort, will that adversely affect my chances?"

"No. It would not have any physical affect on your disease, but I would not recommend it. Sexual activity during periods of physical pain after surgery, or traumatic injuries, can have long-term psychological affects that could adversely affect your relationship with your husband. I strongly encourage you not to pursue intercourse if it brings you any serious discomfort."

"I see." Mac glanced away momentarily. She was a marine. She could handle a little discomfort if necessary.

"Mrs. Rabb?" Dr Rovner recognized that far off look. It was the same one his wife got whenever she had made up her mind about something regardless of his opinion.

"Yes."

"Remember, if it's painful, there won't be any risk in waiting. Understood?"

"Yes, thank you, doctor." Mac was already planning out their evening in her head before she'd had time to get up off the table. Harm was going to finally get his proper hello.

**Chapter 7 **

**London Headquarters **

**Same time**

**  
**"You did a wonderful job today, Petty Officer. I appreciate your willingness to help Mrs. Rabb out."

"My pleasure, sir," Beth James smiled sweetly. One of the bright spots of her life was working for Captain Rabb. At first she wasn't sure she was going to cut the mustard, but now, she couldn't think of a finer man to serve under. His apparent gruff exterior at their first meeting had given way to a fair and patient man. When he got personally involved in finding Mary Philips' killer, Beth's esteem for her superior officer grew tenfold. The man was apparently a walking embodiment of an officer and a gentleman. Add to that, he appeared to be head over heals in love with his own wife, and there wasn't a woman in the building who didn't think the Captain was any woman's dream come true.

"Any news on ..."

"Yes, sir. I have the seaman's file right here. The MPs are transporting him now. ETA ten minutes." Beth stretched out her arm, handing Harm a narrow file folder.

"What about..."

"On his way, sir. He phoned a few minutes ago. Barring any unforeseen traffic issues, Inspector Baskin should arrive before the seaman, sir."

"Thank you, Petty Officer." Smiling inwardly, Harm turned on his heel and proceeded through his office door, quickly perusing the file Beth had just given him. Electrician's Mate. Hmm. That would certainly give him the needed skills to finagle a burglary. Taking a seat behind the large oak desk, Harm continued reading. Nineteen. That certainly fell in line with what Mac said. Harm had known a lot of sharp seamen in his day, but the likelihood of finding a nineteen year old seaman capable of masterminding a museum heist were about as high as finding a needle in the proverbial haystack.

The sound of the intercom buzzing dragged Harm's attention away from the Seaman's records.

"Yes, James?"

"The MPs and Seaman Moore are waiting for you in conference room B, and Inspector Baskin has just checked in at the front desk."

"Thank you." Harm closed the file, holding it firmly as he strode out of his office and past Beth. "Have the inspector meet us in the conference room – in ten minutes."

"Aye, sir."

Nodding to the two MPs as he entered the room, Harm took a seat across from the obviously frightened sailor.

"At ease," Harm waved. "Tell me Seaman, did you do it?"

"No, sir." Thomas bit his lower lip, making every effort to maintain his military demeanor. Deep down he believed the innocent would always be vindicated, but he couldn't help being just plain scared that this time he might be wrong.

"Where were you yesterday at 1630?"

"In the tube, sir. I had to report for duty at 1800 hours. I usually work the night shift, sir." Thomas glanced at the Captain's nametag.

"What time did you leave the museum?" Harm had noticed the odd contortions in the young man's brow since the last question.

"Around 1600, sir."

"Is something wrong, Seaman?" Harm watched as the young man stiffened to attention in his seat, his eyes focusing at some unknown point behind Harm's shoulder.

"No, sir." Thomas glanced sideways at Harm a moment. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"What's on your mind, Seaman?"

"Sir, are you any relation to Colonel Rabb, sir?"

Harm couldn't help the slow grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth, but as usual, he managed to suppress the shear pleasure he felt at the mention of his wife's name.

"That would be my wife."

The two men turned at the sound of the door swooshing open.

"I didn't realize commanding officers sat in on prisoner interrogations," Baskin forced a smile.

"Seaman Moore is not a prisoner, he's merely giving us his statement."

"His statement? You started questioning him without the presence of a Scotland Yard representative."

"The Navy is quite capable of gathering the facts without the need of Scotland Yard to hold her hand."

Thomas watched the two men bicker back and forth with the intensity of a spectator during the last three minutes of a tied pro ball game. A sense of the seriousness of the matter took firm hold of all his fears.

"Repeat for the inspector where you were at 1630 yesterday afternoon," Harm finally directed at the young man.

"Yes, sir. I was on the tube. I had to report for duty at 1800, and sir?"

"Yes."

"I have the right to request counsel, don't I?"

"You do." Harm knew where this was going.

"I think I'd rather not answer anymore questions until I speak with Colonel Rabb." Thomas sat back heavily in his seat, a small wave of calm passing over him for the first time since the MPs appeared at the base to detain him.

Baskin glared at Harm before turning to Moore. "Whose idea is this?"

"Mine, sir. The Colonel seems like a nice lady and I'm willing to take my chances that she's a good lawyer too."

Harm sat back swallowing the smug grin that was threatening to overpower his face. The kid had no idea how right he was. He had just asked to be represented by one of the military's best.

**Rabb Flat **

**1730**

Mac quickly glanced around the room, making sure everything was neatly in place. She'd left only one light on in the far corner of the room, and set the dinner table for two with fresh flowers and candles. Originally, Mac had planned for a quiet family dinner, followed by a cozy tete-a-tete with her husband later in their room. When Mattie called to say she was going to stay after school to watch the volleyball games and then go home with Barb to spend the night, Mac decided instead a romantic dinner for two was now in order.

This was only the second time Mattie had asked to spend the night somewhere else and Mac was pleased to see her falling into a normal teenage routine more like the one she'd had before the accident. Having Mattie spend the night away from home still made Harm a little over protective, but Mac knew deep down Harm understood it was a good thing.

She was tossing some lettuce and tomato into a bowl when she heard the front door open. Wiping her hands quickly on a nearby towel, Mac hurried to meet Harm in the entryway.

"Hey," she offered saucily, walking into his space before he could hang up his coat.

"Hey," Harm grinned back.

"Let me," Mac reached out and took hold of his coat, turning momentarily to place it on the wooden rack by the door where he had already hung his cover.

Harm could feel the heat rising quickly in the room. Having Mac stand so close always warmed his soul, but the look in her eyes set the blood in his veins to boil.

"Hello," Mac whispered softly, as her lips raised up to gently caress the edge of Harm's chin before reaching upward to meet his descending lips.

Immediately, his arms wound their way around Mac's tiny waist. Without any effort Harm had melted into the warmth of the tender kiss. Her supple body molding perfectly to the contours of his own. Never had he known two people who fit together as well as they did. His lips matched perfectly with hers as they teased and played, savoring the sweet flavor that was Sarah MacKenzie Rabb.

When her tongue grazed lovingly across his lips, lingering at the corners, pleading for entrance, Harm's arms pulled her more tightly against him. They'd kissed and snuggled but it had been weeks since they'd allowed the heat of a kiss to build to this level. Harm could feel all the blood in his brain racing forcefully to his body's center, pooling shamelessly in what was quickly becoming an aching need.

Mac folded further into his warm embrace, her fingers tangling through the short locks at the back of his head when she felt Harm slowly ease the pressure of the kiss, his head pulling back, his breath blowing heavily on the side of her now sensitive neck.

"Wow." Harm pulled Mac against him, this time resting his chin on the top of her head. "Do you have any idea what you do to me when you kiss me like that?"

"I'd like to think so," Mac grinned, placing a tender kiss on his shoulder.

"Mac?" Harm suddenly remembered where Mac had been this afternoon.

"Hmm?" she mumbled into his chest.

"Is this your way of telling me the doctor gave you a clean bill of health?"

"You noticed?" Mac turned her head and kissed the hollow of his neck, just above his shirt collar.

Harm felt a surge of electricity shoot through his entire body at the warm feel of her soft tongue on his now burning skin. Nothing seemed as important as carrying his wife off to the nearest bed.

Reaching down and capturing Mac's lips in another searing kiss, Harm pulled away momentarily and breathed onto the top of her head, "Where's Mattie?"

"Spending the night at Barb's."

Harm would have taken the time to discuss the wisdom of that decision if he weren't overcome with desire to ravish his beautiful wife from head to toe and then back again from toe to head.

"What do you say we skip straight to dessert?" Harm whispered in her ear before sucking in the soft lobe.

"I...I need to... turn off... the ... oven," Mac managed to spit out, her heart racing at the sensations raging through her body.

Slowly backing her into the kitchen, Harm continued nibbling on her neck and jawline, reaching out blindly for the knob. Glancing up to see if he'd successfully turned the contraption off, Harm leaned down and scooped Mac into his arms, carrying her off down the long hallway.

**Chapter 8**

**Rabb flat**

**Same night**

**2330**

"This is delicious." Harm took another bite of the seafood casserole.

"I'm sorry it's a little dry." Mac shrugged one shoulder.

"I suppose that's my fault," he grinned rather pleased with himself.

"Works for me," she answered quickly, too quickly.

"You set me up." Harm waved a fork at Mac.

Rolling her eyes innocently, "Hey, I wasn't the one who suggested skipping right to dessert."

"Touché." Harm took another bite, contemplating if he should bring up Moore's request now or wait till morning.

"Something on your mind?" Mac had been watching Harm struggle with something the last few minutes and decided maybe he needed a little push.

"Sort of. Are you up to discussing a little business?"

"Sure."

"It's Moore. We brought him in for questioning, and he's refused to answer any more questions until he talks with his lawyer."

"And?"

"He wants you, Mac."

"Me?" Mac dropped her fork with a loud clank.

"It's his right to request private counsel. You are on reserve. There's no reason you can't defend him. If you want to that is."

"I thought we were going to start working on a family."

"I thought we already were." Harm wiggled his brow at his wife. She looked so damn beautiful with her hair wild and tousled after a night of lovemaking.

"You know what I mean," Mac tried to hide her blush.

"I know. It's up to you, but if it's worth anything, I agree with you. I don't think the kid did it either."

"I know."

Harm could hear it in her voice. She was going to do it. There was no way she would walk away from an innocent kid asking for help.

"Where is he now?" Mac asked.

"Confined to quarters under guard."

"Baskin agreed to that?"

"He didn't exactly have much of a choice. So far all he has is some hearsay and very circumstantial evidence."

"Such as?"

"Moore frequents the museum more often than your average museum lover. From the recent videos, he appears to be the only patron to be wearing a peacoat that day."

"But..."

"All you can get from the video is a distant angle. There's no clear shot of his face. Even his size is an approximation. The person in the video is probably his height, but they could be an inch or two taller or shorter. There's also no proof that what he was putting in his pocket wasn't simply a pen. The idea of it being a syringe is rather sketchy at best. There's also the probability that he isn't the only patron to visit the museum wearing a peacoat. Perhaps he was that day, but I'm sure with a little effort..."

"And time," Mac interrupted.

"And time. We could review surveillance footage further back to determine the veracity of our theory."

"Veracity, huh? A little good loving and your vocabulary improves," Mac teased playfully.

"I'll show you good loving." Stepping out from the chair in a flash, Harm had reached around and thrown Mac over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Harm!" Mac screeched, not having anticipated the move.

Patting her rear end softly, Harm smiled broadly, taking his wife down the hall, "Just you wait Henry Higgins."

**London Headquarters**

**Monday morning**

The elevator doors opened ever so slowly, the large double doors to Ops only a few feet across the hall. It had been some time since this marine had spent any amount of time in an office building. Almost four years to be precise.

At first he was startled to receive his new orders, almost annoyed. When he reached the name of who he was to report to, a small smile spread across his face. He'd heard through the grapevine that the new captain was recently married to a marine colonel. He could only hope it was the same marine colonel. He had never seen two people more suited to each other, or more stubborn to admit it.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his way through the glass doors almost marching squarely to the CO's office.

"Master Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez reporting to Captain Rabb."

"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant, he's expecting you." Beth James had to make a serious effort to keep her jaw from dropping. She was used to seeing men in uniform, even handsome men in uniform, but there was something strikingly impressive about this dark eyed man.

Calling the Captain over the intercom, "Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez to see you, sir."

Expecting to hear a voice respond, Gunny and Petty Officer James were startled to have the door fly open behind them.

"Gunny!" Harm extended his arm. "Glad to have you aboard." Harm stepped back, waving the marine into his office.

"Thank you, sir." Gunny stood at attention before the Captain's desk.

"At ease, Gunny." Harm gestured for Gunny to take a seat. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you. Besides the fact that we are short staffed, making running an efficient office twice as difficult, I'm in desperate need of good investigators." Pausing to gauge Gunny's response. "You'll find your duties similar to those you had at JAG HQ, but leaning more heavily on investigations and research."

"Yes, sir," Gunny assented stoically.

"I'm hopeful we'll be able to convince you to accept a permanent position with us."

"Yes, sir."

Harm smiled, not much had changed. Gunny was still a man of few words.

"You're first assignment will be working shot gun with Colonel MacKenzie."

"I didn't realize the Colonel was stationed here," Gunny interjected.

"She's not, but her services were requested by a seaman accused of burglarizing the national museum."

"A seaman, sir?" Gunny shifted his brow curiously. The first readable expression Harm had seen since the Gunny arrived.

"Yes. Scotland Yard seems happy to convict on circumstantial evidence. I want the truth."

"Aye, sir!" Gunny stiffened to attention. Maybe working in an office again wouldn't be so bad after all.

"The Colonel is expecting you. She'll fill you in on all the details. She'll be interviewing the suspect later this morning. I'm sure she'll want you present. Petty officer James will show you the way to her temporary office."

"Aye, sir." Gunny stood at attention.

"Dismissed, and Gunny..."

"Sir?"

"We really are glad to have you back with us."

"Thank you, sir. It will be a privilege to serve with you again." Turning on his heel, Gunny made his way to Petty Officer James' desk.

"Excuse me,"

"Yes, Master Gunnery Sergeant?" Beth looked up from papers she'd been sorting.

"I understand you can direct me towards Colonel MacKenzie's office."

Beth curled her brow in confusion before recognition dawned. "You mean Mrs. Rabb?"

Gunny couldn't help the broad grin that spread across his face. He hadn't wanted to say anything inappropriate to the Captain, but he was damn glad those two finally found each other. He just couldn't believe it took them almost four more years after the Brumby incident.

"Did I say something amusing Master Gunnery Sergeant?" If Beth had thought the Gunnery Sergeant was handsome before, that smile was definitely a lady-killer. He probably had a string of broken hearts from marine camp to camp.

"No, Petty Officer, and it's Gunny. Just Gunny." Gunny squared his shoulders and wiped the silly grin off his face, his marine persona firmly in place once again.

"Follow me." Beth stepped out from behind the desk and waved for Gunny to follow her. Without warning, her mind flashed back to Greg's cocky smile and the first day they met. Damn she missed him.

Not a bad view, Gunny thought as he watched the Petty Officer walking across the bullpen. Gunny wondered momentarily what the petty officer would look like without the heavy glasses and her hair down, but it wasn't long before he shook away those thoughts. He was back in civilization and going to be surrounded by women. He needed to keep his mind on business. Besides, she was probably as young as she looked.

Turning the corner at the end of the bullpen, Beth stopped short knocking lightly on the frame of the first doorway on the left.

"Ma'am, excuse me, but Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez is here to see you."

"Gunny!" Mac exclaimed enthusiastically as he stepped out from behind the younger petty officer.

"Good morning, Ma'am."

"Ready to start counting paper clips?" Mac teased, thinking back to the first job she'd offered him years ago.

"More than ready, ma'am." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, Beth. That will be all," Mac dismissed, noticing the young woman watching the conversation curiously. She had no way of knowing that Gunny and her boss' wife had a relationship that went further than the brotherhood of marines. Few soldiers had more respect or trust for each other than these two had.

Gunny had often taken it upon himself to protect Colonel MacKenzie, both physically and emotionally, and he was prepared to do that again if necessary. Though he strongly suspected, now that the two senior officers had finally gotten together, the Colonel wasn't going to be needing very much protecting anymore.


	2. Chapter 9 thru 16

**Keep One Eye on the Road  
**

**Chapter 9 **

**R.A.F. West Ruislip**

**Later that morning**

Gunny walked briskly beside Mac. It had been a while since they had seen each other and he'd almost forgotten what a skilled attorney she was, almost. He had watched with utter fascination as she communicated with the nervous Seaman. His first instincts had been that the Seaman may very well have been involved, but there was no way such a young person would be able to mastermind such a complex operation. Now his instincts told him Scotland Yard had the wrong man.

"I'm going to need exact times for when Moore returned to base. There should be log in information at the front gate."

"Yes, ma'am." Gunny knew not to take it personally that she was stating the obvious.

"I'll also want to see every minute of surveillance tape the Museum has."

"Yes, ma'am." Gunny kept in step with Mac's brisk stride.

"You may have to get the day of the burglary tapes from Baskin. He's not as bad a character as Harm makes him out to be. He just made the mistake of not expecting the unexpected."

"Understood." Gunny had done a little recon work before reporting to duty. He'd heard the scuttlebutt about Lt. Philips having been caught up in the serial killings a few months ago. He also wasn't surprised to hear that Commander, that is, Captain Rabb had been her CO, and personally involved in the investigation.

"There shouldn't be any problem getting videos of the previous days from the Museum. I'd like to see who came and went in a peacoat for the last two weeks. If we don't find anything we'll go back even further." Mac stopped in her tracks and looked over at Gunny. "You don't really need me to tell you all this do you?"

"No, ma'am," Gunny withheld a smile.

**London Headquarters'**

**Wednesday two days later **

Gunny stepped quietly up to Petty Officer James' desk, noticing her sudden pallor as she slowly returned the phone to its cradle.

"Is anything wrong, James?" Her face was taking on a gray waxy texture, and concern was quickly raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Hmm?" The small sound was barely audible. Beth's eyes were still intently focused on the black phone.

"Are you okay?" Gunny put the files he was carrying down and stepped around the desk. Carefully placing the back of his hand against her cheek, afraid to do much more, but horrified at how cool and clammy she felt.

Beth almost jumped out of her skin at the sudden touch. Without thinking, her arm shot out instinctively, nailing Gunny forcefully in his midsection, only inches away from causing him severe pain.

"Gunny!" Beth pushed the seat away from her as she reached out to the doubled over marine. "I'm so sorry. I... I didn't realize it was you. What were you thinking?"

"You looked... ill." Gunny took a deep breath and straightened up slightly. "When you didn't answer me...I was ... concerned." Letting out another deep breath, Gunny rose to his full height. "You pack one hell of a punch for the Navy."

Taking a few steps back, Gunny reached for the files just as the Captain's door opened.

Harm's eyes were quickly scanning the situation. Gunny had an oddly pained expression on his face and James looked as though she'd just been shown a late night screening of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

"What's going on out here?"

"Nothing, sir. I'm just dropping off these files you requested," Gunny offered.

"Sorry, sir. Just a little ... misunderstanding." James appreciated Gunny's efforts to play it down. Captain Rabb was many things, but stupid or deaf weren't any of them.

"Would I be correct in assuming you don't need my intervention?" Harm looked from Beth to Gunny and back.

"No, sir," they both responded quickly.

"I'll take those reports." Harm motioned for the files.

"Yes, sir. Here you go, sir." Gunny picked the balance of the files up off the desk and handed them to the Captain.

"Carry on." Harm turned and entered his office closing the door behind him.

"Damn," Beth muttered under her breath.

"Damn the phone call, or damn our commanding officer thinks we've lost it?" Gunny approached carefully.

"Just damn in general," Beth couldn't resist letting a slight smile show. For someone she'd just punched in the gut, Gunny was being unusually nice, especially for a marine.

"I'd better get back to work before they transfer me back out of here." Gunny hesitated a long moment before deciding the petty officer no longer looked in need of assistance.

"Gunny," Beth called out as he turned from the desk, "Thanks."

**Rabb flat **

**Later that night**

"You look beat," Mac noticed Harm dragging towards her in the kitchen.

"More like something that died under the porch," Mattie added, reaching into the fridge for a can of coke.

"Gee, thanks." Harm leaned over and gave Mac a quick peck hello, grabbing a tomato out of the salad she was making. "How was your day?" he asked, giving her another quick kiss.

"You mean besides going cross-eyed? Scotland Yard is insisting if the Navy doesn't press charges, they will. Gunny and I have interviewed every guard on duty that day except for the one who suggested emptying the case. Apparently no one recognizes who he is." Mac walked over to set the salad on the table where Harm and Mattie had taken seats.

"Do you need help with something?" Harm asked, moving the bowl between him and Mattie.

"No." Taking a seat beside Harm, "It'll be a few more minutes before the lasagna is ready."

Harm pulled another tomato out of the salad.

"Will you cut that out!" Playfully, Mac swatted Harm's hand.

"So who's the extra guard," Harm tried redirecting Mac's attention.

"An accomplice, maybe? Baskin suggested he might even be the mastermind."

"Oh, so Scotland Yard's finest finally agrees with what the rest of us have known all along? The kid isn't capable of pulling off a job like this."

"Not exactly, he still thinks he's capable, but since he doesn't have the stolen letters, they're concluding whoever does is the one who actually planned the heist."

Mattie jumped up at the sound of the oven timer. "I'll get that." She was happy to have an excuse not to listen to the boring adult conversation.

"You don't have to do that." Harm gestured for her to sit as he started to get up. He still tended to coddle her when it came to overdoing walking around.

"I know, but I will." Completely ignoring Harm's efforts, Mattie walked over to the oven and brought back the piping hot meal.

"So, now what?" Harm began scooping out a hefty portion.

"Gunny and I spent the better part of this afternoon going over the videos practically with a magnifying glass."

"And?"

"Nothing, we only got through half the tapes before I had to leave. Gunny was going to continue looking over them and let me know if he finds anything."

"Speaking of which, have you noticed anything odd about the Gunny?"

"Our Gunny?" Mac scrunched her face in confusion.

Harm nodded. "Mm. Do you think there's something going on with him and Petty Officer James?"

"Beth!" This time Mac's eyes flew open wide.

"Why do you keep making faces?"

"Well, for starters I've never known a more squared away marine than Gunny, even when he's in love with the suspected enemy."

"True," Harm nodded, thinking back to Faresa in Afghanistan a few years ago.

"And as for Beth, he and she have only known each other for a couple of days. What could possibly being going on?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you. All I know is there was an unusual commotion outside my office, and when I went to see what was going on, Gunny looked as though he'd been kicked in the teeth, and James looked as though she'd been watching a horror flick."

"Well, if there is something going on, from your description, it doesn't sound very promising," Mac chuckled quietly before taking a bite of dinner. She wondered if Beth had heard anything about her test results. Mac was hopeful that Beth not needing a friendly ear implied she'd received good news.

"Has anyone mentioned you make eating lasagna look very sexy?" Harm couldn't help but notice the way Mac's lips slowly closed over the fork as she pulled it away from her mouth.

"Excuse me! Impressionable teenager here! I suppose it would be asking too much for you two to behave more like old people and not newlyweds? You guys really bring to life the expression, get a room." Mattie rolled her eyes in frustration. She loved Harm and Mac, but someone really needed to tell them they're not hormonal teenagers anymore. Actually, if she stopped to admit it, she did think their love puppy expressions were cute, just not during dinner.

**Chapter 10**

**Short time later**

**Rabb Residence**

Mattie had just dropped her plate in the sink and headed back to her room to finish the mounds of Calculus homework that beckoned from her desk when the phone rang just as she passed by.

"Rabb Residence. Sure, no problem. Hang on." Placing her hand over the mouthpiece, "It's for you, a Gunny Galindez." Mattie handed Mac the phone and waved her fingers as she turned the corner down the hall.

"Yeah, Gunny."

Harm watched as Mac nodded and grunted at sporadic intervals into the phone. It was amazing to watch her body language change as she shifted from wife and mother to marine attorney. He watched her move stealthily back and forth across the kitchen floor, her one arm occasionally rising up in a responsive gesture to something Gunny said.

A wayward thought flashed through his mind. She was so in her element when she was in a courtroom. Was she maybe regretting all she'd given up to be with him? Harm swallowed the errant thought. She'd done nothing to imply she wasn't happy. As a matter of fact, she'd almost protested taking on Moore as a client, reminding him their priorities were elsewhere. No, the time for second-guessing each other had long passed. He needed to focus on the here and now, and not the what-ifs. He couldn't allow fears to color their blissful reality, and he was in heaven. Had he realized what he was denying himself all those years that he suppressed his feelings for Mac, he would never have allowed his tainted obsessions to get in the way of true happiness.

"Harm?" Mac repeated.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I was lost in thought."

"You were certainly lost in something. I know you had a hard day. Care to share?" Mac took hold of Harm's hand and led him over to the sofa.

"You mean you really want to hear about the most boring day in JAG history reviewing efficiency reports? I put if off so long, the files are planning a coup to take over my office." Harm would have laughed a little louder if it didn't feel like the truth. "Why don't you tell me what Gunny had to say?" He sat heavily on the large sofa, pulling Mac down nearly on his lap.

Immediately, shifting so her back leaned up against Harm's side, Mac snuggled in under his arm, placing it gently across her tummy, doodling on the back of his hand.

"He thinks he may have found something on one of the surveillance tapes."

"Something good?" Harm began brushing back strands of her hair with his free hand.

"Don't know yet. He thinks it's an accomplice. The video is rather dark and sketchy. He's going to send it to a private lab, have a small portion enhanced. See if we can find something else to help solidify Moore's claims he'd already left the museum."

"None of it makes any sense, Mac. I mean, what does Baskin think was Moore's motive? He certainly can't fence them. It would be like trying to unload a stolen Rembrandt. He'd need a professional fence in a very private niche. Where would Moore come in contact with people like that?"

"He wouldn't. Sometimes I think Baskin is on a Brit versus Yank ego trip and isn't coming even close to doing his job."

"Sometimes?" Harm's fingers stilled a moment.

"He's done a good job at putting the circumstantial evidence together. The amount of time Moore spent hovering around the letter cases. His excellent fit reps in direct contradiction to his bumbling behavior at the museum."

"He thinks it's an act?"

"That's the way he's presenting it." Mac sank a little deeper against Harm.

"Well, surely there must be someone who can corroborate that Moore can be a bit...awkward."

"Gunny's working on it. He's a bit of a loner."

A momentary silence fell across the dimly lit room. Harm continued gently raking his fingers through Mac's long hair. He liked it long like this. She'd let it grow. It was now a little longer than the night of their engagement, but not quite as long as in that horrible daydream he'd had at Jennifer's promotion celebration.

"Mac?"

"Mm?" Mac had let her eyes fall closed, enjoying the relaxing moment.

"Are you happy?"

"What?" Mac practically shot up off the couch, "Why would you ask that? Of course I am. Are you?"

Harm held back the urge to chuckle. He should have known better than to start the domino effect of second-guessing.

"I am without any doubt the happiest man on the face of the planet and very possibly in the universe." Leaning forward slightly, he kissed her briefly on the forehead and urged her to lie back down.

"It's just, you're such a good attorney. Watching you work with Gunny again, I thought maybe, well... maybe you might be having second thoughts about giving up the Corps to be with me."

Mac shot up from the sofa even faster than the time before.

"Oh, Harm." Turning fully to face him, she put both her hands on either side of his face. "The only thing I regret is that I didn't ask for a proposal five years ago on the front steps of HQ instead of accepting a long term deal." Mac pressed her lips firmly against Harm's, drawing out every luscious sensation possible when two hot wires are intertwined together. Gradually she pulled back, her eyes locking on his.

"I'm going to take it that means no second thoughts?" Harm breathlessly responded.

"Uh uh." Her mouth descended once again, slowly capturing his in another endeavor at silent communication. Some things were best expressed without words.

**London Headquarters**

**Next morning**

**0900 hours**

"Thanks, Gunny. I appreciate your covering the phones for me." Beth James hurried up to her desk. "Just give me a second to take this to the Captain."

Knocking softly, Beth entered through the large oak door.

"Your coffee, sir." Beth practically shuffled over to Harm's desk.

"Thank you, Petty Officer. Perfect timing."

"Anything else, sir?"

"No, that will be all." Harm returned his attention to the remaining efficiency reports still piled on his desk. Briefly he wondered if she really didn't know he didn't need anything else, or was it a habitual way of asking to be dismissed. Shaking his head, he quickly decided he was no more likely to find an answer to the enigma that was Petty Officer Beth James than he was to how Mac could tell time with such amazing accuracy.

Back by her desk, Beth paused a moment as Gunny moved out of her chair.

"I'm sorry it took longer than I thought. I needed to use the rest room first," she smiled almost bashfully at the handsome marine. She could have asked Petty Officer Blair to cover for her the way she always did before Gunny arrived, but the Gunny didn't huff at her as though she'd just asked him to move a sofa across the room for the umpteenth time.

"No problem, I'm not expected to meet Colonel Mackenzie, I mean Mrs. Rabb at the lab for another hour." Gunny clicked his heels, nodded politely at Beth, then returned directly to his own duties. He had a few more things to go over before his meeting with the Colonel. There was no way he was going to remember to call her Mrs. Rabb. On reserve or not, she was always going to be Colonel MacKenzie to him.

Glancing at the files on his desk, so many things about this case were all wrong and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He missed the information network from home. It was going to take some time, but he would need to build the same thing here.

**Chapter 11**

**Hope's Sound and Video**

**Gerrard St, London W1**

**1030 hours**

"There it is!" Gunny pointed to the small shadow on the screen.

"Good God, you must have used more than a magnifying glass. How did you ever spot that?" Mac inched closer to the computer screen.

Gunny shrugged nonchalantly. He didn't like being fussed over for doing his job.

"What can you do for me?" Mac turned her head to the video technician at her side.

"Well, we've cropped the surrounding areas you're not interested in. With a little digital enhancement here." The woman typed furiously on the keyboard. " And a little shift over here."

Mac watched amazed as the shadow took a nearly clear form.

"...And voila." The tech stabbed at a key and the 'new' video began playing.

All three faces were glued to the screen, even if the tech wasn't sure of what she was looking for, or what the two yanks hoped to find, she loved watching her handiwork in action.

"There!" Mac pointed. "Can you freeze that?"

"Piece of cake." With another tap of the keyboard, the enthusiastic tech had frozen and magnified the small portion Mac had singled out.

"It's not really clear enough, ma'am." Gunny leaned into the screen. "I mean, it looks like some sort of coat of arms, but there must be an awful lot of aristocrats running around England with a ring similar to that."

"Maybe. But at least now we know there were two people involved. If Moore was a loner, maybe this will help dissuade Baskin at least a little bit." Mac stepped away from the computer.

"I want at least two copies of what you've done here," she smiled at the helpful tech. Turning to Gunny she continued without skipping a beat, "Good work, Gunny." She'd looked at that particular tape more than once. She would never have noticed the other man.

After waiting a short while for the tape copies, Mac and Gunny started back for the office.

"Do you want me to show this to Scotland Yard, ma'am?" Gunny asked opening the car door for her.

"Not yet, let's see what else we can come up with first." Mac turned the engine while Gunny walked around to the passenger side and slid into the car. "I need you to find out where the guards get their uniforms. There has to be a paper trail to track this man down."

"Yes, ma'am. Consider it done."

Mac was finally beginning to feel like she would be able to get a handle on this case. Now they knew for sure, the so far unknown guard was indeed an imposter. Most likely a wealthy imposter if the gold ring on his finger was any indication. Yes, they finally had something to go on.

**Beth James Desk**

**Five days later**

Gunny hesitated as he drew closer to the Petty Officer's desk. This wasn't the first time he'd caught her staring at that photograph. He hadn't gotten close enough to see what, or who it was. She always slipped it into a drawer before he could catch a decent glimpse. Ever since her odd reaction the other day, he thought she seemed distant, lost.

"Afternoon, Beth." Gunny dropped the box of files at the edge of the desk, barely catching a glimpse of the framed photo.

"I...I didn't hear you coming." Quickly Beth pulled open the middle drawer.

"Someone special?" Gunny ventured.

Nodding her head slowly, Beth stopped midway from tossing the memory into the open drawer. Pulling it back in full view, "He was." Her eyes remained glued on the image in front of her.

Gunny swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat. Did that mean 'was' as in now living with a gorgeous blonde in Chelsea, or 'was' as in a plot at Arlington Cemetery?

Snapping out of her reverie, Beth tossed the photo down and slammed the drawer shut, probably a little harder than she'd intended.

"What have you got there?" She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, trying to portray a calm control she didn't feel.

"Last year's disability reports the Captain asked for."

"I thought you were working with Mrs. Rabb on the museum burglary?"

"That too."

"Getting anywhere?"

"Not really, but we will." Gunny took a step back before turning to Beth again, "About the picture, I... I didn't mean to intrude. I'm sorry." Gunny nodded politely then did an about face, always the squared away marine.

Beth watched Gunny walk towards the door when she heard herself say, "Greg."

"Excuse me?" Gunny turned his shoulder not completely sure he'd heard anything at all.

Clearing her throat, "His name was Greg. Wrong place wrong time." She opened the drawer slowly, pulling the photo out as though it were made of gold. "Car bomb in Tikrit. Thirty-four days ago." Almost shaking, she stretched her arm out, offering the photo to her new friend.

Gunny hadn't meant to hesitate, but he felt as though he was intruding somewhere he didn't belong. Noticing the increased unsteadiness of her hand, he hurriedly accepted the frame.

"We were...close."

"You look happy." Gunny was pleased to see his remark bring a hint of a smile to her face. He couldn't really tell from the photo, she was laughing so hard, but it appeared he was right about her looking good with her hair down.

"We were. That's Bury St. Edmonds. Nice little town. You should take time to explore more than London." Beth reached out and took the photo back.

"Thanks. Maybe when this case is done I'll have a little more time to follow your advice."

"Oh, good, Gunny. I was hoping you were still here." Mac turned to Beth, "Is the Captain very busy?" Even though it was almost quitting time, Mac didn't want to wait for Harm to get home.

"I'll let him know you're here." Waiting for the sound of her superior officer's voice to respond on the intercom, "Sir, your wife is here... Yes, sir."

"He says to go right in." Beth started up to get the door when Mac waved her down.

"Follow me, Gunny," Mac signaled the marine.

Opening the door, Mac found Harm only a few feet away moving towards her.

"This is a nice surprise." Reaching out for her, he wrapped one hand around her waist ready to pull her in for a much-needed kiss when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Gunny following not far behind her.

"Sir," Gunny snapped to, desperately trying not to smile at the scene he'd almost caught.

Swallowing a short chuckle, "I just got back from meeting with Seaman Moore," Mac spoke as she walked over to Harm's desk.

Taking a seat, Harm waved for Mac and Gunny to have a seat as well.

"Nothing seemed very familiar to him," she continued without interruption. "He didn't really pay much attention to people. The only reason he remembered me is because he kept bumping into me."

"If he was as awkward as you say, shouldn't he have 'bumped' into someone else?" Harm suggested.

"According to the guards he stumbled into a lot of people and things, but other than to say excuse me, or I beg your pardon, I'm the only one he actually spoke with,."

Gunny sat silently listening, but if he had an inkling to voice an opinion, he would think it was obvious to anyone why the seaman had noticed the colonel. A man would have to be dead not to remember her.

"When I showed him the photo of the ring, he remembered something he'd forgotten."

Harm and Gunny both inched slightly forward in their chairs.

"About a week before the theft, Moore was leaving the document hall, and accidentally bumped into a man in the doorway. He wouldn't have exchanged more than a passing apology except he heard a loud clanking sound at his feet."

Harm's brow inched high on his forehead.

Mac nodded her head once, "Yup, our ring was rolling along the floor. The man quickly explained that he'd lost a lot of weight recently and hadn't had time to have it resized."

"I guess it would be asking too much to have gotten a name?" Harm added.

"All he could remember was that the guy mumbled something about my father would be furious if I lost this. When Moore responded by asking if it was a family heirloom, the man responded that he and his brother had the only two left."

"So we're not looking for one ring but two?" Gunny added, a slight gleam in his eye.

"And brothers," Mac added.

**Chapter 12**

**Rabb Flat**

**Later that night**

Harm and Mac had snuggled onto the sofa as was becoming their habit of late after dinner.

"Do you really think it will be easier to find the owners of the rings now that we know we're looking for two?"

"Considering there are probably a couple thousand jewelry stores in and around the London area, no I don't think it's going to be easy. Gunny is going to change the parameters of his search to some of the better known jewelers to the 'upper' upper crust. If the family has two rings, we're taking a chance on really big family bucks." Letting out a short yawn, Mac rubbed her eyes.

"Here." Harm slipped out from under her, fluffed a cushion against the arm of the sofa, and spun Mac so she was reclining comfortably. Grinning at her groan of protestation, he grabbed both her ankles with one hand and slid underneath her on the other end of the sofa.

Within moments, Mac had sunk further into the comfy piece of furniture feeling all the day's tension flowing away as Harm methodically rubbed light, pressured circles across her tired feet.

"What about the uniform, any luck with that yet?"

"Gunny's still working on that. I can't believe he spotted that. It seemed absurd that no one remembered the guard who finally took custody of the papers, but seeing the video of the man shedding his coat to reveal a full uniform underneath explains a lot." Mac squirmed slightly as Harm's fingers brushed lightly over a ticklish spot.

"It also proves our accomplice theory. The thief couldn't be injecting the cases and stripping in the corner at the same time. There's definitely at least two of them." Harm applied increased pressure to the underside of Mac's foot.

"If this ring thing pans out and we can track it back to the same person who bought the uniform, well, the museum patch actually, almost every museum in London has guards with similar uniforms, but each one has a distinct emblem. If Gunny can somehow track down who purchased a uniform and emblem for the Maritime to a name that doesn't match the employee roster, we might be able to find our man."

"Has there been anyone to corroborate Moore's statement he left at 1600 and didn't go back?" Harm began working on Mac's other foot.

"No. Even though the front lobby surveillance tape shows what looks like Moore leaving the building, it also shows what looks like Moore coming back in a short while later. Even the logs at Ruislip weren't helpful. With housing being off base, there's no way to disprove he didn't report for duty immediately from the museum heist. No, our only chance is to find the actual perpetrator."

"If anyone can unravel this mystery, it's you and Gunny." Harm watched Mac fight the heaviness of her eyelids. "Mattie doesn't need any help with her homework tonight. What do you say we call it an early night? I promise I'll keep my hands to myself and let you finish that book you've been trying to read." Harm smiled that sexy little grin that showed just a sliver of tongue between his teeth.

"Who says I want you to keep your hands to yourself?"

Before Mac could make a move on her handsome sailor, the short clanking sound of the doorbell rang.

Harm patted Mac's thigh and shifted out from under her legs. "I'll see who it is."

Opening the door impatiently, Harm wondered who would be coming by at this hour.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you as well, Captain." Waiting just a beat, Baskin nudged his way past Harm, "Thank you, I'd be delighted to join you for a cup of tea."

Closing the door behind him, Harm stood stunned, staring at the brazen agent.

"I guess that means I'm putting on the kettle." Mac hopped up from the couch, more than a little curious as to why Baskin was calling at her home. In all that went on during the Jack the Ripper case, he'd never attempted to do business at their home.

"No need, Mrs. Rabb. I simply did not want to stand at your door discussing what I have to say with all your neighbors."

"And just what do you have to say?" Harm stepped up to the man, putting a deliberate space between Baskin and Mac.

"Actually, I have something to show you." Pulling a rather thick file out of his briefcase, he handed it over to Mac.

Mac took a few steps backwards until her legs bumped the sofa, forcing her to sit. Harm watched his wife's face intently as she quickly scanned the first few pages, finally deciding he and Baskin should have a seat as well.

Baskin waited patiently for Mac to peruse the pages knowing it wouldn't take her very long to grasp their meaning.

"Why?" she asked glancing up briefly from the file, still having covered only the first part.

Baskin silently studied her a minute.

"Why me? Why now?" she repeated.

"It seems your Gunny is making a name for himself." Baskin sat back in his chair. "For a man who has only been in London for a little more than a week, he appears to be making friends in all the right places."

Mac looked up at Harm. "This file is on the Earl of Habersham, or I should say his two sons, his twin sons." Mac emphasized the word 'twin'.

Harm's only response was a single raised eyebrow.

"We've had trouble with these chaps for years. They're like Cary Grant's 'le chat' in To Catch a Thief. We know who the culprits are, we just can't prove it. They're suspected of being connected to some of the most daring burglaries in England."

Mac flipped through a few more sheets of the lengthy report.

"Why?" She looked up at Baskin. "According to this, the Earl of Habersham is a very wealthy man."

"Yes. He's one of the few hereditary Peers in the country who still has a good deal of money to go with the name. They're not in it for the money."

"Then for what? The thrill?" Mac was beginning to understand.

"I think they fancy themselves a modern Thomas Crown. Grew up watching to much television if you ask me." Baskin rolled his eyes in exasperation. "It would certainly answer the one lingering question of why steal an item so difficult to dispose of profitably."

"Yes, it would," Harm added pensively. He was trying to figure out the inspector's angle. He still hadn't really answered Mac's first question.

"If you've known about these 'chaps', why are you going after Seaman Moore?" Harm asked, his irritation obvious.

"Because until your Gunny started asking the right questions, we honestly hadn't made the connection."

"And..." Harm knew there was something missing.

"And, frankly, without something more substantial, Scotland Yard isn't going to be able to extend the investigation. The official position is that your man did it."

"But the unofficial position..." Mac let hang.

"You might stand a better chance of finding what you want, if you know what you're looking for, but of course, you didn't get that from me."

Standing up, he nodded at Mac then Harm.

"I can see myself out. Thank you for a lovely evening. Enjoy your reading." Without further ado, the inspector made his way to the front door and quietly let himself out.

**Chapter 13 **

**Rabb Flat**

**Same time**

Harm sat staring at the closed front door. What the heck just happened?

Mac glanced from the door to her husband, to the folder in her lap, then back to her husband.

"Was what happened what I think just happened?" Mac cocked her head sideways completely surprised by the turn of events.

"You mean Scotland Yard's leading hotshot giving you the key to clearing your client, unofficially. Yeah, that's what just happened."

"Remind you of anybody?" Mac glanced back at the door.

"Don't even go there."

"No, really. Remember when a few of us were held hostage in the admiral's office and Clayton slipped you a file about the truth of what was going on?" Mac raised her eyebrows at him.

"I really don't want to stroll down memory lane tonight, if you don't mind?" Harm really didn't want to discuss his one time friend, her one time lover, and their all the time spook.

"I'm sorry, but wasn't it Clay who told you where to find the Russian Scientist who knew your father? And it was Clay who slipped you the tape of the Angel Shark that broke the case wide open."

"Okay. I'll give you this move reminds me of something Webb would do, but I hope you don't think that's going to make me like this guy any better?"

"Harm..."

Mac walked up to Harm and placed her hands gently on his chest.

"What I'm saying is, maybe Inspector Baskin wouldn't be such a bad ally after all." Mac kissed the tip of Harm's nose. She hoped eventually there would come a day when they could discuss the Clayton Webb of the past without the horrid memories of who he'd recently become causing them both pain.

"No point in looking a gift horse in the mouth. Let's take that to bed and I'll help you go through it." Harm pointed with his nose at the file she'd left on the sofa.

"I thought I already told you, I don't feel like reading tonight." Leaning in and placing a barely there kiss at the hollow of his neck, Mac slid her hands down his chest, along his hips, and taking one of his hands in each of hers, she walked backwards leading him to the privacy of their bedroom.

Mac had spent the better part of the next day reading the information Baskin had left her. These two brothers were an interesting pair. Both held figurehead positions in their daddy's plastics company, but neither had ever worked a day in their life. The sister had a flair for business and helped dad with the day-to-day drudgeries. The daring duo apparently had spent the better part of their adulthood masterminding impossible heists.

Mac's eyes grew wider and wider at the who's who of world treasures they'd allegedly managed to pilfer. Anything from one of a kind Roman coins, to a wall-sized El Greco painting. Although there had been circumstantial evidence building against them through the years, no one had ever been able to build a strong enough case to warrant dragging one of Britain's oldest noble families through the courts.

Flipping through photo after photo, Mac couldn't help but chuckle to herself. These two really did consider themselves a modern day Thomas Crown. They apparently never left home without a beautiful token on their arm. Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six, and blondes for Albert, and redheads for Oliver.

**Wyedean Weaving Store**

**Portland Place, London**

**Next day**(wed-29 days letter- 145 days since first doctor – 9 days since start of case- 9 days since burglary- 5 day since news of condition- since gunny arrived?)

Surprisingly, there was only a handful of stores in the area that carried the correct insignia for the National Maritime Museum. It had taken Gunny all morning to go through the first page of his list. Fortunately for him, the majority of the stores appeared to be located in the textile district of London.

"May I help you?" the elderly man greeted Gunny.

"Yes, sir. I'm Master Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, USMC. I'm wondering if you recognize either of these two men?" Gunny held out a couple of photos that the Colonel had given him.

"Whooo," the man whistled loudly. "Quite the lookers, aren't they?"

"Yes, sir," Gunny swallowed a chuckle, "I need you to tell me if you've seen either of 'the men' in here in the last, oh, say two or three months."

The man studied the photos carefully, "This one here looks a little like a bloke who was in here once looking around. I remember him because he kept hovering over the insignia braids over there, but wouldn't say much. Whenever I asked if he needed help, he'd just shake his head no. Thought it was odd for the amount of time he spent in here. It was like he was memorizing everything in the case."

"Did he buy anything?"

"Mind you, I'm not sure it's even the same bloke, but no, if it is, he didn't buy anything." The man continued staring at the photos. "Can't even imagine what it would be like to have the likes of them on my arm." Slowly he turned the photos back over to Gunny.

"Do you keep lists of the patrons who purchase the National Maritime badges?" It had taken Gunny the first four stores before he remembered not to call them patches.

"Now why would an American Marine need to know who I sell museum badges to?" An odd look of doubt appeared across the man's face.

"It's my job to help uncover the truth, sir." Gunny hadn't shifted from at ease stance since entering the store. He waited as the shopkeeper studied him further.

"Not all, but I'd be happy to show you the ones I do."

A few minutes later the gentleman emerged from a back door carrying an alphabetical file.

"I hate computers," the man seemed to apologize as he rummaged through a particular section. "For the last three months, you said?"

"Yes, sir," Gunny nodded.

"Here you go." He handed over a stack of about 20 or 30 pages.

Gunny sifted through the pages looking for any link to the Habersham clan. When none of the names jumped out at him, he pulled out his list of employees.

"Did any of these orders seem unusual?" Gunny asked as he continued matching names of buyers to employees.

"No, can't say that they did."

Gunny focused slightly longer on the last piece of paper. "This one doesn't seem to have as much information as the others."

Taking the sheet and looking it over a minute. "That's right. I'd forgotten about this character. Rang in an order. Didn't want to leave his name, said he'd be sending his assistant to pick it up. Told me to put it under her name, Marjorie."

"That struck you as odd?" Gunny thought the old man might be onto something.

"Not so much that, but he insisted that I wrap the badges up tightly so they couldn't be seen by the assistant. I asked if he wanted it gift wrapped, not that I could imagine why, but he said no. He wanted to make sure I understood the assistant was not to know what was in the bag."

"Can you describe the woman?"

"Oh, yes. He got my interest then, he did. I stayed past my shift to see who picked up that particular package. Nice looking woman. Nothing special. About forty, give or take a few years. Average height for a woman, maybe five foot six. Had a bit of gray a little heavier on one side. Thought it made her look a tad exotic." The shopkeeper shrugged apologetically for his indiscreet observation.

"What about her weight? Was she heavy, thin?"

"Average, like I said, nice looking."

"Thank you very much. If you remember anything else about the men in the photos, or the person who placed that order, call me at this number." Gunny gave the man a card with his number neatly printed.

Now all Gunny had to do was determine what relationship this woman had to the Habersham boys, and if her name was really Marjorie?

**Chapter 14**

**London Headquarters**

**Next day**

**Mac's temporary office**

"I guess it pays to know people in high places," Meg teased.

"Being married to the boss can have its advantages. I think if Harm wasn't short lawyers he wouldn't have let me park myself here."

"Now that I think back, all the exciting cases I've ever had in my career all happened when I was partnered with Harm," Meg continued lightly nodding her head.

"Excitement does have a way of following him around"

"And you. After all, it was you the young seaman kept bumping into."

Chuckling quietly, "Yeah, I can't very well blame this one on Harm, can I?"

Before Meg could respond, Mac's cell phone went off.

"Hello." It still sounded odd to her own ears not to be answering Colonel MacKenzie.

"I see. No, I think you've put in long enough a day. We knew it was a long shot. Let's regroup in the morning and see if we can't come up with another plan."

Meg watched Mac carefully. She could see the frustration literally rising up her spine as she stiffened in her seat.

"Not going well?" she asked as soon as Mac had hung up.

"Gunny may have found something that will help us track down who purchased the fake uniform, so that's positive, but he's spent almost all of today searching for a jeweler who would recognize the ring our suspect was wearing."

"No luck, huh?" Meg interrupted.

"No. We thought for sure there would be a slew of rich Brits with family crest jewelry," Mac didn't mean to sigh out loud, but she needed some air. There were so many loose ends dangling in her face like a carrot, and she just couldn't quite get a firm hold of it.

"Maybe your genealogy people can help?"

"My what?"

"You know, that place you told me about where you found your naval ancestor."

"That's not a bad idea. Surely he's familiar with all sorts of family crests. Meg you're a genius!" Mac jumped up from behind the desk and grabbed her briefcase. "I could just kiss you." Rushing past Meg's chair, "Sorry to chat and run, but if I hurry I can make it to the shop before they close."

"No problem. Glad I could help." Meg smiled, standing in the doorway. Those two were so suited to each other. She was going to miss this place. Pearl seemed so boring in comparison.

**Heritage House  
1745 hours**

Mac paid the cabby, cursing herself for not having taken the tube. Whatever made her think a cab in London during rush hour would be faster?

Relieved to find the shop still open, Mac stepped inside waiting for the young man who had helped not too many weeks ago.

"Mrs. Rabb. What a pleasure to see you back so soon." The handsome salesman extended his hand to Mac.

"Thank you. You did such a wonderful job on my family history, I was wondering if you might not be able to help me out with a little something else?" Placing her briefcase on the table beside her, Mac pulled out a photo.

"I'm trying to place the family crest on this ring. Do you think you might be able to help me?"

Staring at Mac a moment, the gentleman accepted the photo without looking away.

"Very well." He looked at the picture briefly before walking over to the old oak desk that was still buried deep in large leather-bound volumes. Reappearing with a magnifying glass in hand, he carefully studied the blurry enlargement.

"Have you been looking for this long?" he asked without looking up.

"A few days." Mac leaned a little forward, watching him intently.

"You're not going to find a family crest to match this." The man looked up and saw Mac's shoulders literally deflate.

"I thought for sure if anyone knew what this was, you would."

"I didn't say I didn't. I said you won't find a family crest."

"Excuse me?"

"This isn't a crest. It's a signet ring."

"A signet ring?"

"Yes, when people actually used paper to communicate, or in this case, when the nobility proclaimed decrees, they would seal it with wax and this ring." He handed Mac back the photo. "Often these rings did use the family crest but in many cases a less ornate design was chosen."

"Then you recognize this signet?"

"I believe so." The man walked to the other side of the room, reading the binding of several books as he moved along. "If memory serves me correctly, this emblem belonged to the Viscount of Helmsley." Pulling out a small, but thick book, he flipped through pages, then turned to face Mac, not noticing the way she deflated at the name Helmsley.

Mac stepped over to the table he had laid the book on.

"Yes, there it is. The Viscount of Helmsley."

Mac looked over at the photo in the book. It did in deed match.

"And who would have this ring now?" Mac straightened her shoulders. Technically it didn't matter if it didn't belong to the Bobsey twins. The important thing is that it leads to whoever pulled off the heist.

"The Viscount of Helmsley was a lesser son of the Fourth Earl Habersham. There are three rings all together. One for Viscount Habersley, and another for Viscount Hartfords. I believe the three rings are still passed down through the Habersham family."

Mac was ready to do cartwheels.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," the man hesitated.

"Would you be willing to testify in court that the ring in that photo belongs to the Viscount of..."

"Helmsley, and no the title Viscount of Helmsley is no longer used. Although the title Viscount is a hereditary title, when the twelfth Earl Habersham rose to the title, he declared his descendents would no longer use the honorary title of Viscount. A rather odd gesture in that era. Some say the Twelfth Earl was suffering from syphilis and made several out of sorts decrees." Recognizing he was now telling tales. "If I had to venture a guess as to whom the ring might belongs to, since the Earl of Habersham has only two sons, I would think this ring belongs to the younger of the two."

"And that would be because?"

"Originally Helmsley was the least notable title. Less land and wealth than the other two."

"Hence the younger of the sons." Mac was catching on "So would you be willing to testify to this in court?"

"Yes, I am confident enough to state that the ring in that photo is the signet ring of the Viscount of Helmsley. I can not however, attest to who owns it today."

"I won't need you to. If all goes well, I won't need you at all." Patting the man on the forearm, "You have been very helpful. Thank you." Moving as she spoke, Mac almost ran out the door and up the street to hail a cab. Finally something solid in her client's defense.

**London Headquarters**

**Same time**

"Where's James?" Gunny asked PO Blair.

"In the head. Should be back any second. Need to see the Captain?"

"Actually, I'm looking for Colonel MacK, I mean Mrs. Rabb," Gunny corrected himself.

"You'll have to wait for James. I know I saw Mrs. Rabb around here not too long ago, but I have no idea where she might be now."

"Where was she when you saw her?"

"In her office with Commander Austin."

"Hmm. I just came from there." Gunny looked up across the small bullpen.

"Here comes James." Blair pointed behind Gunny.

"Thanks, Jim. Sorry to keep bothering you," Beth smiled sweetly.

"No problem."

Gunny watched Blair walk back to his own desk. No wonder she didn't like asking him to fill in for her. It was obvious from his tone that 'no problem' meant just the opposite.

"Can I help you?" Beth looked up at Gunny, wondering what he found so fascinating.

"Oh, yeah. I'm looking for Colonel MacKenzie."

"She didn't say where she was going, but she literally ran out of here about an hour ago. You might try Commander Austin. I believe she's still here." Beth had gotten used to hearing Gunny refer to Mrs. Rabb as the Colonel, somehow, even in civilian attire, the courtesy suited her.

"Thanks...and uh, you're a girl..."

Beth chuckled loudly, "Yeah," she said sardonically. "Last time I looked."

"Sorry, didn't mean it that way. It's just that women know everything about shopping and I need to get one of those hand held shower attachments. The apartment I have only has a tub and I'm going to go nuts if I don't get a descent shower soon," Gunny let out a frustrated breath.

"Know what you mean. Everyone has that problem. Even at enlisted quarters. Most older buildings with low rents haven't been updated. Believe it or not, the cheapest place to get what you want is at the Woolworth's right around the corner from here."

"Woolworth's?"

"Yeah, they've got them all over the place."

"Thanks, I wouldn't have known that."

Noticing him looking a little awkward, something rather unusual for the Gunny, she ventured a little further. "Do you want some help shopping for that?"

"Hmm?" He'd been lost in thought. "Oh, no. I was thinking about something else, but if that's an offer to guide me through the maze of household accessory shopping, yeah, I'd love some help."

"Okay, it's already past quitting time, but I have a few more things I want to finish up before securing for the day. I should be able to get out of here in about half an hour. Is that too late?" Beth looked up from her watch.

"Perfect. Gives me time to track down the Colonel. I'll meet you back here in thirty." Without anymore conversation the Gunny was off to Commander Austin's office. He needed to move on with the business at hand, but his mind kept nagging at him. He didn't have time to be thinking about James, but he couldn't help but wonder.

**Chapter 15**

**London Headquarters**

**Commander Austin's office**

Gunny stood in the doorway prepared to knock when Meg looked up.

"It appears everyone is working late today." She waved the marine into her office. "Need something, Gunny?"

"Actually, ma'am. I'm looking for..." Gunny was cut off by the sound of the intercom buzzing.

Holding up a finger for him to wait, Meg punched a button and reached for the handset. "Yes, no problem. He's right here." Extending the phone to Gunny, "Mrs. Rabb is looking for you. Petty Officer James patched her through to me."

"Thank you, ma'am." Gunny accepted the phone, and moved around the desk, lessening the tension on the cord.

"Gunny?" Mac's voice came through loud and clear.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I've got it. We've got our first connection to the family. Now we really need to find out who Marjorie is. If we can connect her to the younger brother, I think we'll have enough to go to Scotland Yard."

"I'll get back on it right away, ma'am."

"No, Gunny. It can wait till morning. You've put in long enough a day. I'll be in by 0900."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be here." Gunny handed the phone back to Commander Austin.

"Did you still need to see me for something?" Meg asked, fairly sure it had been Mac he was looking for.

"No, ma'am. Thank you. I was trying to find the Colonel."

"She went to the place that did the genealogy for her family. She was hoping to get a connection to the family crest."

"Looks like she found it, ma'am," Gunny smiled, having a better idea of what the Colonel sounded excited over.

"Good. Hopefully it will be the break y'all need to set this case in motion." Meg's Texas accent didn't show through very often, but once in a while she'd let out a y'all, or a fixin', and her roots would show.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. If you'll excuse me?" Gunny waited for Meg's nod and turned back towards Beth's desk. He still had twenty minutes to kill. Hopefully the Colonel had been able to connect the ring to the Habersham's.

**Clachan Pub**

**Kingsley St**

**2030**

"It's very nice of you to offer to feed me." Beth slipped her package onto a nearby chair.

"It was the least I could do after you battled the housewares department with me." Gunny pulled out a seat for her.

Thanks." Sitting down, "I still can't believe you weren't going to buy a shower curtain." She shook her head, looking around for the pub menu.

"There's no rod," he justified.

"That's why we bought one!" Beth couldn't stop shaking her head. Such a squared away marine and yet, still a man. Clueless when it comes to simple domestic matters. She couldn't help but think it was a good thing she had come along, or heaven knows what a mess he'd have made the first time he used his new showerhead.

"The bath rug wasn't a bad idea either." Gunny watched Beth still shaking her head at him, obviously trying to stifle a laugh. "Go ahead, you can say it."

"Okay. Men!" she laughed out loud.

"The honest truth is men were designed to hunt, not shop. That's why I'm a marine. Uncle Sam usually supplies the showers, and curtains and bath mats aren't on the supply list."

Beth's expression quickly changed from amused to more solemn.

"You've been on the front lines a long time," her voice was low and contrite.

"It's been a long fight." Gunny could only assume her suddenly glum countenance had something to do with the boyfriend in the photo. "Are you hungry?" he grinned broadly, trying to regain the cheerful mood of earlier.

"Famished. I can't seem to get enough fuel lately," she rubbed her hands together, a sincere smile on her face. "This is a lovely place. How did you ever find it? You've only been here about a week."

"Single men are good at scoping out where to eat. I'm not fond of kitchens. This place really reminds you of just how old the world really is."

"Yeah, well, an E6 can't afford to not like cooking," she chuckled.

"That's why this is my treat." Gunny watched her reading the board with the day's specials. She looked really tired, despite the pleasant smile.

"I know what I want. I'm going to have the mussels, then the fish and chips, and with a little luck, I'll have room left for the shortbread surprise. But, you'll have to excuse me first, I need to see a man about a horse." Beth walked towards the back stairs in search of the ladies room.

When she returned to the table a few minutes later she noticed Gunny fiddling with a cocktail napkin as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Beth smiled when Gunny popped up to help her with her chair again.

"Just thinking. I didn't know what you'd want to drink so I got you water for now."

"That's fine. Thanks. This case is really starting to get to you isn't it?" She took a long sip of her water.

"Colonel Mackenzie may have gotten a break today. She's a good lawyer, damn good lawyer, but with the right evidence, Seaman Moore could avoid trial all together."

"You really like Mrs. Rabb, don't you?"

Gunny studied her seriously for a moment. "She's an excellent marine. Even for an officer. She has earned my respect and my trust. I would follow her to hell, knowing she would bring me back."

"I didn't mean to imply..."

"I know you didn't, but she and Captain Rabb are two of the finest officers I have ever served under. I just want to make that clear." Gunny took a gulp of his beer.

"I can tell. Captain Rabb took it hard when Mary was killed, and I saw how he and Mrs. Rabb worked to find the truth. I knew they'd catch the guy, or in this case, girl." A sweet smile crept across her face.

"What's the grin for?" Gunny was curious.

"Nothing," she almost blushed.

"I don't buy it. What is it?"

"Well, it's just nice how they are together. You know...in love. It's sweet. I can't believe how he treats her after all these years."

"All these years?" Gunny didn't understand.

"Well, yeah. You can just tell they've been together forever."

"I guess so," Gunny chuckled.

"Okay, so now what's so funny?" Beth returned.

"I've known the Captain and the Colonel a long time, and lets just say that most of us knew how they felt about each other long before they did, or at least before they'd admit it."

"Well, they've got it right now." Beth looked up as the waitress brought them their appetizers. "You like mussels too?" She delved into her first crustacean with gusto.

"Apparently, not as much as you," he teased.

"I can't help it. I told you I was famished." She slurped at another shell.

"I'm glad to see you're taking good care of yourself," Gunny let slip.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her eyebrows curled in confusion, Beth continued scarfing down the next goodie on her plate.

"I... I... just know you were upset the other day, and... uh..." Gunny had been debating with himself all afternoon if he should say something. This was none of his business. He barely knew the woman. It wasn't his nature to stick his nose where it didn't belong, but for some reason he couldn't seem to help himself.

"What?" Beth finished the last mussel, and set the fork down, contentedly wiping a drip of sauce from the corner of her mouth.

Taking a deep breath, "I get the impression you're not feeling well, maybe...pregnant."

Beth's eyes grew wide and round. "What...what makes you say that?"

"I have four sisters, and thirteen nieces and nephews. I was around for nine early stages of the pregnancies, and back in DC we had a perky Lieutenant who didn't seem to have any trouble conceiving. I recognize the symptoms."

Unconsciously glancing down at her flat tummy before looking up at Gunny, "Such as?"

"That photograph you showed me of you and your boyfriend, it was taken in front of a pub, but you're drinking water now. I also heard you'd taken a few days sick leave shortly before I arrived. Ensign Barnes mentioned it often enough."

"Just two days, well, technically only one and half, but go on."

"I'm sure lots of people take sick days, but scuttlebutt has it you'd been noticeably out of sorts. The day you slammed me in the midsection. You looked, ill. Actually, shocked was more like it. Even when my sisters were trying to get pregnant, finding out they were the first time was always a little bit of a shock."

Beth just stared, her heart climbing slowly into her throat.

"Today, when you were clearing up your desk, I noticed you've got a bag of saltines in your top drawer. It wasn't there last week. But the real give away is how often you use the head. For a woman of your age..." Gunny waited to see if she'd fill in the blank.

"Twenty-seven."

"Okay, at twenty-seven, and in good health, a pregnancy would explain such a weak bladder and the need for saltines in your desk. I'd say not that early along either." Gunny waited to see if she'd confirm, deny, or slug him.

**Chapter 16**

**Rabb Flat**

**2030**

"I can't believe all these years you led me to believe you couldn't cook." Harm wiped his mouth, then tossed the napkin on the table.

"I never said I couldn't cook. You just always offered. Besides, it's no fun cooking for one. If I made a pot roast, I'd wind up taking it to work for lunch all week." Mac scrunched her nose unpleasantly.

"Well, if I ever get a full staff, maybe I can sneak away early enough to do some of the cooking."

"Fat chance," Mac laughed out loud. "Even with a full staff, there's no way the Force Judge Advocate is going to secure early to go home and cook dinner!"

"Kill joy." Harm helped Mac clear the table. "What time did Mattie say she'd be home?"

"Around nine, but I don't know if they were eating in or going out for dinner, so it could be closer to ten." Mac loaded the dishwasher while Harm finished cleaning off the table.

"So what's on the itinerary tonight?" He called over his shoulder.

"I'm excited about the signet ring thing today, but I need to find Marjorie. I have to make a connection between her and the Habershams."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"For now I'm going to see if there's anything in that stack of history Baskin left me that might give me a clue. If not, I may have to ask Baskin for a list of employees from Habersham Plastics, and for the estate staff."

"Only one estate? You'd think they would have a summer place, a winter place, maybe a place in Scotland. You know, like the Queen," Harm teased.

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that," Mac frowned, straightening up from the dishwasher.

"Not to worry, I'll help you sift through that stuff again."

"Not to worry? When did you go all English on me?"

"It's that royal marine who's been assigned to our office this week. All I ever hear him say is, 'Not to worry, sir. I'll take care of it.' I'm not even sure half the time what it is I'm not supposed to worry over," Harm chuckled.

"Well, if it helps any, you sound awfully cute when you go English." Walking into the living room, towards her briefcase, Mac paused to give Harm a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Just cute?" he called after.

"Okay, adorable, too," she giggled quietly.

"Adorable, huh?" Harm walked up behind Mac and slipped his arms around her waist. "What do you say we work on the twins there for a while, and then you can show me just how adorable I really am." Just in case his intentions weren't clear, Harm began nibbling softly on her neck.

"Work first, play later." Mac shoved a smaller file at Harm. "But, we can read all this stuff in bed if you like?"

"Works for me." Patting her lightly on her six, Harm accepted the folder she'd given him and followed her towards the bedroom.

"You know?" Harm dropped the file on the nightstand and toed off his shoes.

"Yes?" Mac stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Shouldn't we be spending more time...I mean now that you're... well, better..." Harm turned to see Mac standing in the doorway, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, and an odd look on her face. "You look cute foaming at the mouth," Harm grinned.

Rolling her eyes as she turned to go spit in the sink, Mac came back a few seconds later.

"What are you 'not' talking about?" Mac tossed her nightgown on the bed and began undoing the buttons on her blouse.

Harm pulled the covers back from his side of the bed, and sat down heavily. "I'm wondering if we shouldn't spend more time ... you know...trying for that baby we both want."

Mac stared at him, unsure of the odd sensation rising through her. She didn't know if she was hurt, angry, or felt like laughing in his face. The latter appeared to be winning.

Still dressed in her slacks and only a bra, she stepped over to her side of the bed, pulled back the covers, and sat down. "How much more trying do you want to do?" Mac's one eyebrow rose up. "I mean, we've made love almost every night since Dr. Rovner gave us the okay."

"I know. I mean, aren't we supposed to be paying attention to times and things, you know, when it's more likely?" Harm did one of those raise and drop his brow things, as he'd done so often since asking her if she believed in fate when he proposed.

"We will. I haven't had my first regular cycle yet since surgery. Once I do, we'll be able to keep tabs on when I'm ovulating." Raising one eyebrow with an odd twinkle in her eye, "Why, planning on christening the Force JAG's desk?"

Getting up to get changed, " Maybe..." he shot back at her.

**Clachan Pub**

**Kingsley St**

**Same time**

"You said 'even if they were trying', does that mean you have sisters who weren't trying to get pregnant?" Beth looked down at her plate, picked up her fork and began playing with the empty shells.

"Yes. Two actually. My sister Luz Marina had only been married a few months. She and her husband were starting their own business. They hadn't planned to have children for a couple of years."

"But they did?" Beth continued looking at her plate.

"Yes. Luz was numb for the first couple of weeks. Then the idea started to grow on her. Eventually, she got excited about the future instead of focusing on how it changed all their plans. She has four kids now," Gunny chuckled.

"And the other sister?" Beth glanced up at him for only a fraction of a moment.

"That was my kid sister Valerie. She liked to party. Had bad taste in men." Gunny picked up his fork and began pushing the empty shells around his plate.

Beth saw the movement on his dish and looked up at him again. He looked as lost as she sometimes felt.

"About two years ago I was home on 30 days leave at the same time she came home from school. She was in her last year of college at the University of New Mexico. I caught her sitting on the bedroom floor, in the corner, with her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around herself, just rocking quietly."

He looked up and saw Beth staring at him intently.

"She was terrified. Terrified to tell my mom, terrified about being a mother, terrified about not being a mother."

"What about the father?"

"Well, she finally admitted she wasn't sure who the father was." Gunny scratched his head, this wasn't easy for him. "She'd been dating one guy for a while, but she got involved with another before completely breaking up with the first guy. By the time she found out she was pregnant, she wasn't dating either."

"That must have been tough?" Beth finally stopped playing with the fork.

"It was, but we convinced her we were all there for her. That we didn't care she wasn't married, and that we'd help. She moved back in with my mom, and the whole family helps out with daycare."

"And the father?"

"Thank God it turned out to be the nicer of the two. We had Jorge's DNA tested when he was born. Brad turned out to be the dad, and even though Valerie and he were no longer dating, they at least had stayed friends. He helps out financially with whatever he can, and more importantly he comes and visits and participates in Jorge's life. He doesn't take the kid away for weekends or anything like that. They both agree he's too young to understand that, but when he's older and ready to spend time with his dad, Brad will be there."

"Yeah, that's the difference." Beth looked down at her plate again, relieved when the waitress appeared seemingly out of nowhere with her fish and chips. No matter how torn she felt, she could always count on being hungry.

"So, I'm right?"

Beth nodded her head yes.

"You look great," Gunny smiled, trying to cheer her up.

"Thanks," she almost smiled.

"How's the fish?" he countered.

Beth burst out in a fit of giggles. Not quite the reaction Gunny had expected, but he much preferred it to some alternate possibilities.

"We don't have to talk about this, as long as you know you've got a friend when you need one," Gunny reassured her.

"Thanks," Beth looked up, her laughter under control. "The fish is pretty good. I don't think there's such a thing as bad fish and chips in England. How's yours?"

"Always good, that's why I like it here."


	3. Chapter 17 thru 24

**Keep One Eye on the Road**

**Chapter 17**

**Next day – Friday**

**London Headquarters**

**Mac's temporary offices**

**0930**

"It looks to me, ma'am, like we don't have any other choice than to go to Baskin."

Mac tossed her pen on the desk.

"I think you're right. He did bring us the file in the first place. Scotland Yard has to have more on these people than what he gave me."

"Even if they don't, they have the means to access the information we need."

"Agreed." Mac picked up the handset without delay. Pulling a sheet of paper out of a folder to her right, she quickly dialed the number scribbled across the top.

"Inspector Baskin please." Mac signaled for Gunny to wait.

"Yes, Inspector. This is Sarah Rabb calling."

"This is unexpected, Mrs. Rabb. Is your client ready to tell us where he has hidden the letters."

There was something odd in his tone of voice.

"Not yet," she hesitated. "I thought perhaps we could meet and discuss his options. What he would need from you to tell us the truth." Mac hoped he understood what she was fishing for. She'd had enough experience with spooks to recognize when someone was telling her they weren't on a secure line.

"I see. I suppose I could squeeze you in. Would half an hour be doable for you?"

"Yes, that would be fine. Could we possibly meet here?"

"Yes. I'm on way to another appointment. You're half way there."

"Excellent. See you soon."

Gunny watched Mac hang up the phone and stare at the handset. He waited silently for her to remember he was there.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was dealing with MI6 and not Scotland Yard." Mac looked over where Gunny was sitting.

"It sounded like it, ma'am."

"We've got half an hour before he gets here. Let's go over exactly what we've got. Put all the pieces together one more time." Mac opened multiple files on her desk.

Forty minutes later, Mac was feeling the need for a cup of coffee, real coffee, when Baskin tapped on her door.

"The Petty Officer said you were expecting me," he smiled at her.

Mac was momentarily caught off guard by Baskin's smile. Surely she must have seen him smile at some point or other in the times they'd worked together, but not like this.

"Did I catch you at a bad time? You said it was important."

"No, perfect timing. I was just going to get some coffee. Could I offer you some tea?" Mac tried to hide how flabbergasted she was. Baskin was being polite, and almost charming. No sign of the always gruff and cocky policeman she'd previously sparred with.

"I don't have time, I'm afraid."

"No problem. I'll get the coffee later. Here's where we are. We've located the missing guard." Mac put several enhanced photographs on the table for Baskin to see. "You can have your labs check it out later, but he's the accomplice. As you can see from those two photos there," Mac pointed to two distinct photos from before the coat was removed.

"He appears to have had something in his hand here, and not here. We believe he's the one who dropped the smelly gas canister while his accomplice injected the case with whatever caused it to smoke."

Baskin looked at all the photos several times without looking up.

"Here, you'll notice he's taking off his peacoat," Mac continued.

Baskin looked at the newest photo.

"And here you have your mysterious extra guard." Not waiting for a response, "But the real prize is this photo here. This is the signet ring for the Viscount of Helmsley."

Baskin's eyes grew wide as he held the photo closer to the window for light. Turning to Mac, "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I've had an expert verify it, and he's willing to testify in court. We've also got something not so significant, unless we can connect it to young Oliver."

"I presume, this is where I come in?"

Mac gestured for Gunny to continue with the explanation.

"I combed the textile district in search of something connecting our imposter guard with the purchase of the museum badges. I spoke with a gentleman who remembers an unusual sale not too long ago. The man refused to give his name, insisted the badges be wrapped and not visible, and would only give the name of the assistant picking up the purchase. Marjorie."

"Marjorie?" Baskin repeated, stunned with the amount of information these two had managed to accumulate. He had been surprised at the skill Captain and Mrs. Rabb had displayed on their last case. At the time, he actually chalked it up to dumb luck. Now, he was having second thoughts about jumping to a hasty conclusion.

"We need you to give us a list of all of the Habersham's employees. Both business and household."

"That probably won't be necessary." Baskin turned, semi-stunned, towards Mac then back to Gunny. "Did you get a description of this woman?"

"Around forty years old, average build and height, not unattractive, dark hair with a graying streak to one side."

"You do realize you've done what Scotland Yard has been trying to do for almost ten years."

Mac and Gunny looked at each other.

"Who is Marjorie?" Mac asked carefully.

"The Habersham nanny."

"Nanny?" Gunny and Mac echoed.

"She's been with the family since the boys were infants. When the family finally decided the boys were too old for nannies, she was promoted to governess, and from there to head housekeeper. She's forty-nine, and fits your description to a T. Marjorie Spencer."

"Can you get us some photographs?" Mac finally asked.

"I'll have them here for you this afternoon."

"If the shopkeeper confirms it was Marjorie Spencer, I've got enough circumstantial evidence to get my client an acquittal, but I want more. Is this enough for Scotland Yard to drop the charges?"

"No. As you said, this is circumstantial. It's an old and well respected family." Baskin didn't have to say anything more. Everyone in the room understood.

"Then we'll keep at it." Mac looked at Baskin, then Gunny. "We'll start with the photo."

Harm was approaching his wife's office when he spotted Baskin leaving, making his way towards the elevators.

"More goodies?" Harm asked before noticing the Gunny.

"He knows who Marjorie is?" Mac sat down heavily in her chair.

"If you don't need me anymore, ma'am?" Gunny had several things he wanted to work through, and he didn't like feeling like a fifth wheel. What Beth had said last night was true. Even at the office, when both were behaving with the utmost professionalism, you could still feel the love permeating the room. Anyone couldn't help but feel like an intruder.

"Wait, Gunny. I have a few more things I want to go over."

"I guess that means I'm not going to be able to steal you away for an early lunch? And who is Marjorie?"

"Yes, I'd love an early lunch, as soon as Gunny and I come up with our next step, and Marjorie is the head housekeeper. She's worked for the family since the boys were infants."

"Then Scotland Yard is dropping the charges?"

"No. The only way that's going to happen is if we can build a more solid case against these two."

"So we're doing Baskin's job for him again?" Harm threw out bitterly.

"I don't think it's him this time. This seems to be the status quo for Scotland Yard. You don't go after nobility unless you have all your ducks in a row." Mac looked at Gunny.

"Where do you see us going next?"

"To be honest, ma'am. The only way Scotland Yard is going to do anything is if we catch the two red-handed. I'm thinking a good old fashioned sting."

"Sting?" Harm looked at Gunny.

"If you prefer, sir, black op."

"Do you have something in mind?" Mac's curiosity was up. She knew from experience Gunny did undercover work well.

"Not completely, but the boys have two weaknesses. Impossible crimes and beautiful women." Gunny gave Mac the closest thing to a lecherous glare he dared.

"You're not suggesting we use Mac as bait!" Harm exclaimed.

"No, sir. Just pointing out the obvious."

Turning to Mac, Harm could tell by the set of her jaw, she agreed with Gunny. Damn marines.

"Harm, it's not like I haven't been bait before. It probably won't be any harder than you, me, two retired seals, and a couple of Colombian drug lords on the docks of Miami.

**Chapter 18**

**Maroush Restaurant**

**Edgemere**

**Short time later**

"I don't like it, Mac. Look what happened the last time you did anything undercover?" Harm was trying not to raise his voice.

"You can't possibly compare the two. First of all, there's no Clayton Webb involved. You know for a fact Gunny is an excellent back up, and obviously we won't do anything we don't all think will work." Mac took a bite of those meatballs she loved so much.

"I just think if anyone is going to be parading you on their arm it should be me." Harm stabbed at his food, but wasn't eating much.

"We're not sure anyone is going to be parading anyone. Gunny was merely pointing out that if you're anywhere within ten feet of me, I become useless as bait."

"I don't agree."

"Harm, listen to yourself. You don't want me to do this. You are now, and always have been, very protective of me. Now it's even worse. Gunny is right. The minute you walk into a room, it's written all over your face, 'she's mine, keep your hands off'. Well, that just won't work for a sting. If I'm unavailable, the boys won't take the bait."

"That's another thing. You keep calling them 'the boys'. They're almost thirty years old. I don't think 'boys' is an accurate description anymore."

"See, you're doing it again. Getting all over-protective on me. This is going to be a short, quick, sting. Something to give the authorities enough to take over. Most likely, we'll even have Baskin standing by."

"Oh, THAT really helps," Harm huffed sarcastically.

"The more I deal with him, the more I think you, we've, underestimated him." Mac stopped to think about that. Baskin was becoming much more of an enigma to her.

"Until we get that photo from Baskin of Marjorie, all of this is wasted breath. We need for the shopkeeper to identify her before we can put any other plans into action. If it turns out she is 'the' Marjorie we're looking for, then all we need is a simple plan to entrap the boys. It will be just like Miami. All I had to do was walk along the dock, you and the old geezers pretty much did the rest."

"We'll see what ideas get kicked around this afternoon, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." Harm finally took a bite of his food, not even sure what it was he had ordered.

**Harm's office**

**Three days later**

"I've managed to get you an invitation to a small gala benefit at the home of Lady Brighton." Baskin handed Harm and Mac each an engraved invitation.

"Small Gala, isn't that an oxymoron?" Harm huffed. Baskin merely, shot him a dirty look.

"Black tie. Nice," Mac smiled.

"The Habersham twins will be there. They always are. Lady Brighton's reputation as hostess precedes her. You'll have a good chance to study them, and make yourselves known." Baskin glanced at Mac and Gunny, ignoring Rabb.

Harm looked the invitation over carefully. "Who did you have to bribe to get these? It must have cost you a fortune."

"Nobody. Sarah's my sister."

Three heads shot up wide-eyed, looking at him.

"Don't seem so stunned. I never claimed to be raised in a cave."

Silent gestures filled the room, as each person shrugged off their reaction.

"Very well, a couple of my boys will be waiters. Help keep an eye on you two. Other than that, I believe you American's say: all the bases are covered."

Harm rolled his eyes. Somehow using a baseball analogy when Gunny was going to be dangling his wife as distraction for two aristocratic playboys didn't exactly make his day.

"I'd prefer it if I could be with you." Harm was looking at Mac. So much for a quick sting.

"At least you'll be able to see and hear everything. You and I will be in the surveillance room. We'll have all the security camera views at our disposal, and of course we should hear all of the conversation." Turning towards the Gunny, "The wire will be on Mrs. Rabb, so don't leave her side under any circumstances."

"Understood," Gunny nodded.

As everyone left the Captain's office, Gunny lingered a little longer than necessary by Beth's desk.

"How did your weekend go?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"Fine. Thank you, Gunny." Beth was doing her best to avoid eye contact, busying herself with work on her computer.

"Good. I'd better get back to work." Gunny nodded and headed straight for the break room. Five minutes later he was back at her desk. "Thought you might like this. It's herbal."

He had set a cup of hot tea by her side, as well as a small dish of sliced bananas and cheese. "My sisters swear by the extra protein, and insist bananas work better than crackers." Not waiting for a response, Gunny smiled and went back to marine business.

Beth watched him walk away. Shaking her head slowly, she couldn't quite figure him out. So tough on the outside, yet apparently thoughtful. A small tear rose to the corner of her eye. What would Greg be doing if he were here now? Would he have hovered over her, worried about her? Or just pranced around like a proud peacock? Wiping the single tear from her cheek as another threatened to follow, she took a piece of banana from the plate. Suck it up, she reminded herself, turning to the computer and typing away frantically. Suck it up.

**Rabb Flat**

**Five days later**

The cover story was that Gunny and Lady Sarah Brighton had met during her last ski vacation in Colorado. Mac was to be his newest trinket. Harm and Baskin would be driving over to Lady Brighton's shortly. Gunny and Mac would arrive a little afterwards, having been invited earlier than the other guests for private cocktails.

The entire story hinged on Gunny and Mac being Americans, and hence less likely to be someone the Habersham boys should know. Harm had tried arguing that the case was now Scotland Yard's, since the director agreed there was enough circumstantial evidence to at least warrant looking into it further. Though, it was unlikely they'd come up with anything more than they had in the last few years. Baskin, on the other hand, made it quite clear that none of their British agents would be able to pass for previously unnoticed affluence. It had to be Americans with whom the boys were less familiar. It wouldn't seem unusual for the Habershams to discover herds of wealthy Americans they'd never heard of.

Harm had come to one understanding in all this: Baskin wanted to nail 'the boys' as much as they did.

"Good God, where'd you get that dress!" Harm's eyebrows were kissing his hairline.

"Picked it up yesterday at Louis Vuittons."

"On my salary?" Harm swallowed hard.

"Of course not. Scotland Yard paid the tab. This is technically their investigation. This is supposed to be a gift from Victor to show off his latest trophy."

"Victor?"

"Come on, Harm. You know I can't call him Gunny."

"But, Mac. That dress? You're practically falling out of it." The extremely low cut, tightly fitted bodice had Mac's breasts resting close and high. Every time she took a step, they bounced like Jell-O.

"I have to make up for the fact that I'm neither a blonde, nor a redhead," Mac shrugged.

And exactly, WHERE are they going to put the wire?"

Mac didn't bother answering, she simply rolled her eyes and turned away to retrieve her new shoes from the closet.

Before Harm could repeat his question, the doorbell rang.

"That's either Baskin and the Electronics guy, or Gunny. Would you mind letting them in while I finish up?" Mac smiled sweetly hoping to put Harm at ease.

Nodding, Harm literally stomped all the way to the front door. Opening it with more force than necessary, Baskin and his wire specialist could actually hear the whooshing sound as it flew open.

Harm was at least slightly relieved to see that the other guy was actually a woman. He didn't like the idea of other men touching his wife, for any reason. Heck, he would have preferred it if her gynecologist was a woman.

"She's back that way." Harm pointed over his shoulder, down the hall.

Dutifully, the smiling woman hurried off to work.

"Not that there's much dress to hide it with," Harm called pseudo-teasingly to her.

"Quite a dress, isn't it?" Baskin asked, stepping into the apartment.

"You've seen it?"

"We needed to see the dress before this evening so Alice would know what she had to work with. Mrs. Rabb brought it by straight away after purchasing it. Spot on with her choice," Baskin nodded approvingly.

"Mm, yes, spot on." Harm followed Baskin into the living room when the doorbell rang again. "That must be Gunny. Have a seat. We'll be right with you."

Opening the door a little more calmly for Gunny, the three men were shortly chatting amicably in the living room while waiting for Mac and Alice to come out.

"Just keep in mind, this isn't about money," Baskin reminded everyone. "It's the challenge, the ego."

"Understood. I'm a marine. I believe I'm familiar with the concept." Gunny glanced in Harm's direction, swallowing a laugh at the Captain's knowing grin. The tux might allow him to blend in with the crowd, but he was still all marine inside.

"Yes, I imagine you would," Baskin conceded.

Harm had to admit Mac was right. Gunny was the better man for this job. His noncom rank gave him a casual air that screamed American across the room, and yet his military discipline gave him an air of pride and confidence that could easily have been mistaken for money, lots of it. Add to that he was a marine, and he could probably read these guys better than anyone in the room.

** Chapter 19**

Suddenly Baskin and Gunny jumped up from their seats. Standing in front of Harm, their eyes were falling out of their heads, and their chins were on the floor. Mac had obviously entered the room.

Turning around, although he'd seen her not long ago himself, even he was stunned to see how gorgeous she looked. Her hair was slightly curled and wild, her breasts jiggled with every movement, her hips were swaying rhythmically, and the slit up to her hip gave you a teasing glance at those long legs with every other step.

"Wow…ma'am," Gunny finally managed.

Mac couldn't resist smiling. It was nice to know that pushing forty she still had it in her to turn a few heads.

"Shall we get this show on the road?" Mac looked at her husband.

"Yes. Alice will take the tube home. We'll head straight to Sarah's. Give us a fifteen minute head start," Baskin added.

**Brighton Estate: the Lakelands**

** Outskirts of London**

**2210 hours**

Harm was beginning to get restless. Gunny and Mac had been cooing at each other all night and the Habersham boys seemed to have not even noticed them. Staring mindlessly at the security screens Harm watched as Mac walked away from Gunny.

"And we have lift off." Harm straightened in his chair, nudging Baskin.

Albert the older brother had just done a double take as Mac brushed past him on her way to the ladies room. A few minutes later when she passed by again, Albert awkwardly elbowed his brother whose reaction was very similar to that of Baskin and Gunny earlier in the evening.

"I do believe this evening is about to get interesting, Captain."

"I do believe you are right, Inspector."

"Heads up, they're coming this way," Gunny whispered into Mac's ear. She giggled loudly, pretending he'd told her something more personal.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of an introduction?" Oliver directed at Mac before turning to extend his hand to Gunny. "Oliver Habersham."

"Albert Habersham." Albert shook Gunny's hand after Oliver.

"Victor Harmon. This is my friend, Sarah MacIntire."

"Very pleased to meet you." The two brothers replied simultaneously.

Harm and Baskin listened intently for over an hour as the three couples discussed everything from where Mac had bought her dress to the much-congested traffic in London. Finally, it sounded like Mac and Gunny were going to get their open door.

"I can't believe this is your first trip to London," Oliver stepped a little closer to Mac. "Have you been enjoying the sights?"

"So far, but I'm getting tired of marble arches, old buildings, and museums," Mac tried to slightly whine. "I mean, I thought I'd go to that maritime museum, you know, get a souvenir for my mom's brother since he's in the Navy, but getting caught in the hoopla of the burglary has left me cold on playing tourist."

"Yeah, can you believe that wimp?" Gunny took a sip of his drink, gauging the boys' reaction out of the corner of his eye.

"You were at the museum the day of the burglary?" Oliver seemed to be ignoring Gunny's comment.

"Just before. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have been caught up in the smell and the gas," Mac explained.

"I still say the thief was a wimp. Anyone could have taken a few papers that no one else wants. I understand that museum is filled with really valuable items. Some of those paintings are worth millions," Gunny cut in.

"So?" Albert added, his feathers starting to ruffle.

"I'm just saying it's obvious the thief was a lowly seaman. Not smart enough to go after the really challenging merchandise."

"You don't think getting away with stealing some of Britain's most valuable records of history was a challenge." It was obvious from his tone of voice that Oliver was offended.

"Nope." Gunny took another drink.

"At a boy, Gunny," Harm encouraged under his breath. He only wished he could get a better angle on their faces through all this.

"So you think real skill requires going after the big museum pieces?" Albert threw back, obviously trying to control his tone.

"No, I'm just saying true thievery is an art, requires a little genius." Gunny pulled Mac a little closer, squeezing her around her waist. Giving his words time to sink in.

He'd been tempted more than once to plant a kiss on her just for show, but somehow he knew he'd never be able to look Captain Rabb in the face again if he did. The game seemed to be working. Gunny could tell the boys were starting to boil. He was starting to enjoy this.

"The days of Cary Grant's 'le chat', or David Nivens 'the phantom' are long gone. The world hasn't seen a famous thief for years. With modern technology it's becoming too difficult. Thieves have to be relegated to the ordinary, like that museum job."

"You really think pulling that job off was ordinary? I think it took true genius to plan and time it perfectly enough to make it look simple and ordinary, not to mention go undetected for hours," Oliver explained proudly.

"Nope, don't buy it. Too easy. Kid just got lucky." Gunny almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Mac's fingers begin doodling on his forearm.

"He's right. If that sailor were any good, he'd have gone after something much more difficult," Mac tried to help push the two over the edge.

"What exactly do you consider a more worthy challenge?" Albert asked through steely eyes.

Bingo. Mac and Gunny did it. The gauntlet had been dropped and the challenge was on.

Gunny had to force himself not to look at Mac.

"Well, if I were a thief, I wouldn't look any further." Gunny waved his arm pointing to his surroundings. "This place looks as secure as Fort Knox. The only thing missing is a moat."

"I have heard that Lady Brighton has one of the most impressive jewelry collections next to the Queen herself," Mac glanced in Sarah Brighton's direction.

"Anybody can steal jewels," Albert grimaced. "I don't see any challenge in that."

"It's not the jewels, it's their keeper." Gunny took a quiet breath. "Look up. Those are infrared sensors spaced every three feet. They're architecturally disguised along the corners of the walls too."

Gunny waited as Albert and Oliver looked around.

"There are enough people watching this place to guard the president. All they're missing are the dark sunglasses." Gunny pointed with his nose to the two men standing at the base of the main stairwell in tails, the other two by the entrance to the kitchens and servants quarters, and at another two at the top of the second floor landing by either entryway to the east and west wings.

"I believe the 'staff' is rather extensive," Gunny chuckled, watching the boys' eyes scanning the well-dressed guards.

"Do you see the security cameras?" he continued.

The two brothers looked at each other as if silently re-evaluating the merit of the Gunny's claims. Looking around one more time, one by one they each noticed the previously undetected cameras.

"Undetectable to the untrained eye." Oliver looked Gunny over carefully. "I don't recall your mentioning what you do in the States?"

"I didn't." Gunny smiled, hesitating a moment longer. "Anyhow, if I felt inclined to prove myself, I would consider this a worthy challenge."

"Mission accomplished." Baskin slapped Harm on the back.

"We can only hope so," Harm sighed heavily. Now the rest would be up to Scotland Yard.

"They'll do it. I'd better arrange to have all those 'jewels' moved to the bank vault first thing in the morning. You're wife is pretty good at this. I could almost see those boys drooling when she mentioned the Queen. Good thinking on her part."

"Wouldn't have expected anything less."

"So, I'm learning, Captain. So I'm learning."

** Chapter 20 **

**London Headquarters**

**Courtroom **

**Five Days Later**

**1045 hours**

"Postponement granted, but this is the last time." The sound of the gavel pounding echoed loudly through the room.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Seaman?" Mac closed her briefcase.

"What happens if we don't have something more conclusive next time?"

"Then we go with the case we've got. Don't worry." Mac tried to encourage the sailor with a smile.

Waiting for the MP to escort Moore from the courtroom, Mac wondered how much longer before Scotland Yard would have something to move on. They'd been following the two Habersham brothers for almost a week and there wasn't any strong indication that they might indeed be planning a new heist. She didn't want to jeopardize the investigation by bringing them up as reasonable doubt in the hearing, but if push came to shove, she'd do whatever was necessary to make sure her client's case didn't go to court martial.

"We may be running out of time," Meg said to Mac's back.

"I know." Mac turned around to face her opposing counsel.

"Besides the fact that I've got orders back to Pearl next week. Even if my replacement is as understanding as I am, there's no way Captain Baens is going to go for another postponement."

"Agreed," Mac let out a heavy sigh. They had hoped to be able to catch the brothers without actually having to possibly wait months for the actual heist. Time was a luxury Seaman Moore didn't have any more.

**Beth James Desk**

**1645**

"Any chance you'll be getting out on time tonight?" Gunny asked.

"Yup! The Captain secured early today. I'm just waiting for the clock to strike 1700 and praying some Admiral doesn't have a spasm before then."

"Good. I was hoping you'd keep me company for dinner."

"I know I said you make more money than I do, but you don't have to keep feeding me."

"Well, if you're not hungry..."

"I didn't say that!" Beth started to laugh. "I just feel guilty you're picking up the tab all the time." Her gaze settled softly on his, "You're not responsible for me, Gunny."

"I know. But it's you or Blair, and Blair eats too much garlic."

Beth laughed out loud. If it hadn't been so true, it wouldn't have been so funny. Sometimes she wondered if Blair was trying to ward off vampires or something.

** Clachan Pub**

**Kingly St**

**1715**

"This is only the second postponement, but Baens almost blew a gasket. Glad I don't have to deal with him on a regular basis. I don't think he's going to forget very quickly." Mac finished up the last forkful on her plate.

"He doesn't take well to civilian lawyers in a military court. Even though you're inactive reserve with over 15 years under your belt, technically, you're a civilian." Harm sat back slightly in his chair, thoroughly satisfied with the early dinner.

"We've got two weeks. Let's hope Scotland Yard comes up with some solid evidence so I don't have to go up in front of Baens again." Mac glanced over at the specials board. "We should probably go ahead and order something for Mattie while we have dessert."

"You mean while you have dessert. I don't have your metabolism."

"I can help you work it off," Mac grinned impishly.

"Now that's an offer I can't refuse." Harm noticed Mac's expression turn from tempting to curious and turned his head to see what had suddenly caught her attention.

"Something wrong?" Harm couldn't quite pinpoint where in the large restaurant she was focusing.

"Isn't that Beth and Gunny?"

Harm turned fully around in his seat, his eyes immediately falling on the two laughing people coming through the front door.

"Yeah, it is. I didn't realize they were that friendly. I thought you told me there wasn't anything going on." Harm turned back to Mac.

"I'm not sure. Could just be two coworkers out for a bite to eat, or..."

"Or what?" There was a slight tone of concern in his voice.

"Or... I could have been wrong." Mac continued staring at the two as they walked closer.

"Don't look now, but I think we're busted," Gunny leaned slightly forward, whispering near Beth's ear.

"Wha...oh…yup," Beth replied awkwardly. "Guess, we better say hello before they get the wrong idea."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that." Gunny looked down at the top of her head. He still wondered what she'd look like if she let her hair down.

"Captain, Colonel. Did you enjoy your dinner?" Gunny smiled, his marine confidence in place.

"Gunny, Petty Officer." Harm stood up. "Yes, thank you we did."

"It was a great suggestion, Gunny. Thank you," Mac added.

"I've been eating here a lot since I arrived. It hasn't disappointed yet," Gunny smiled.

"I wouldn't think so." Harm retook his seat.

"If you'll excuse us, we'd better get a table while we still can." Gunny pointed to a table in the corner with his nose, as the four echoed appropriate good-byes.

"Do I need to worry about something?" Harm turned around fully in his seat.

"First of all, I don't think there's anything personal there."

"Personal?"

"Yeah. There's no intimacy there."

"How would you know that?" Harm curled his brow.

"They're walking rather far apart. They were even before they spotted us. People in a personal relationship tend to move a little closer. I also noticed at no point did Gunny touch her."

"I don't suppose you care to explain exactly what you mean by touch?"

"When we were at our closest in our working relationship, you would find little ways to touch me. In a situation like this, I would have felt your hand on the small of my back more the once. You probably would have tapped me on the shoulder to point to the empty table. Gunny didn't move his arms at all. He's keeping his distance from her."

"Okay, maybe I'll buy all that. What's the secondly?"

"Even if they were getting personal, what do you care? They wouldn't be breaking any regs."

"No, but you know what happens with office romances. It creates office bedlam."

"That's not always true. Harriet and Bud didn't create bedlam. They were cute."

"True, but I'm short staffed now. I don't need cute. I need efficient."

"What makes you think Gunny wouldn't be? Even in Afghanistan, with the woman he was in love with missing, he was the same reliable marine he always was."

"Yes, he was." Harm sat back in his chair a little less concerned than he'd been a few minutes ago. "So what shall we order Mattie?"

"The fish and chips should be easy to reheat. What do you want for..." Mac reached into her purse and quickly retrieved her ringing cell phone before it could bother the other patrons.

"Hello," she said quietly. "Mmhm...okay...yeah... thanks." Mac flipped the phone shut, a huge grin spreading across her face.

"Who was it?" All sorts of possibilities swam through Harm's mind in a flash.

"Baskin. Marjorie rented a car yesterday afternoon. Albert and Oliver have been parked down the road all day from the Lakelands watching the comings and goings."

"That's a start."

"That's not all. Someone at the alarm company was downloading the blueprints to the Brighton's system."

"Do we know who?"

Mac nodded her head yes. "Some IT person from Scotland Yard has been monitoring the system all week. They've put a tail on the employee. Baskin will call me if anything goes down."

The same grin that was plastered on Mac's face spread across Harm's. "I think this calls for two desserts."

**Chapter 21**

"Why do I feel like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar?" Beth sighed, shifting in her seat.

"It's a natural response when bumping into your superior officer outside of the work place. I'm usually only comfortable around officers if I'm in BDUs with a rifle in my hand," Gunny chuckled softly.

"You don't look it," Beth replied seriously.

"Captain Rabb and the Colonel are different. Things change when you've been under fire together. You learn to trust each other. You discover what stuff people are really made of."

"I know the Captain was a fighter pilot and has a colorful history, but Mrs. Rabb is just a lawyer. I mean, she has a great reputation and all, but still, she's a lawyer. Unless someone tried to take over a courtroom, how could you be under fire with her?"

Gunny couldn't help the scoffing chuckle. "Just a lawyer? She was in charge of safely evacuating an entire US Consulate in Indonesia while under fire, under attack might be more accurate. We had to escape through an underground tunnel because the chopper couldn't land on account of ground fire. We were still being shot at as she got all the Americans onto the chopper."

"How did she wind up ranking marine in a foreign country?"

"Everyone else in charge was killed or injured."

"Oh," was the only sound she could make.

"One time, she was interrogating detainees in an Afghani prison, one of the prisoners got her in a strangle hold and threatened to slit her throat."

"She was in Afghanistan?" Beth couldn't hide the surprise on her face.

"The Colonel is not only an excellent lawyer, she's a marine. She's also fluent in Farsi, and she's nice enough not to make fun of mine."

"You speak Farsi?"

"Enough. Anyhow, she waited till everyone laid their weapons down, and as soon as the guy loosened his grip, she overpowered him. Within minutes all the prisoners were back under control."

"She overpowered an armed Afghan rebel?"

"You could too if your life depended on it," Gunny smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"You don't know me as well as you think you do. The only thing at risk of being overpowered by me is a stack of paperwork."

"I wouldn't be too sure. Hey look! Corned beef and cabbage is on the menu. I think I'll have that tonight," Gunny proclaimed rather enthusiastically until he saw the look on Beth's face.

"Is something wrong? You suddenly don't look very good." Gunny was out of his seat and at her side before she had a chance to open her mouth. "Is it the baby?"

Beth was overcome by the near panic on his face. "I'm sorry, I'm fine. Please, sit down."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Then what is it?"

Closing her eyes, Beth took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "It's corned beef."

"Corned beef?" Gunny didn't get it.

"Just the mention of the word makes me sick. I don't think I could handle smelling the actual food." Her eyes dropped down to the table in embarrassment.

Gunny looked at her for a second before asking, "How do you feel about lamb shank?"

"You're something else," she laughed. "I think it sounds delicious. I'll have the same."

Gunny waved the busy waitress down and placed their orders, carefully watching Beth out of the corner of his eye. They hadn't discussed her pregnancy since the day she'd gone shopping with him, but he'd thought by now she would feel comfortable enough to mention something. It had been three weeks since she got the news, and she still seemed so detached.

An awkward silence settled over the table.

"Are you worried about the Captain and his wife seeing us here?" Beth wouldn't have thought so, but it was obvious something was bothering Gunny. He might have been sitting at the same table, but he was more like a million miles away.

"There's nothing about two fellow employees eating together worth giving a second thought," Gunny shrugged off.

"Then why so serious?"

"Didn't mean to be. Just thinking a minute, sorry." Gunny tried to dissuade her growing concern with a quirky smile.

"This must be where I'm supposed to say 'penny for your thoughts'?"

Hesitating a moment, Gunny blurted out, "Why don't you ever talk about the baby?"

Wrapping both hands around her diet soda, Beth stared into the glass for what Gunny thought was an eternity before she finally spoke.

"I wasn't sure there was going to be a baby." She didn't dare look up at him.

"I see." Gunny swallowed the lump that had suddenly settled in his throat. It shouldn't matter to him, it wasn't his child, but it did matter. "Are you sure now?"

"I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing, but yeah, I think there's going to be a baby. I mean, I'm running out of time to change my mind anyhow." She still couldn't bring herself to look up at him.

"Babies are always the right thing." Gunny didn't know how to get her to look up at him.

"He shipped out two days after we returned from Bury St. Edmunds. It was sort of a bon voyage weekend. I've had a...condition for years that I take birth control pills for. Who'd have thought I'd be the less than one percent to get pregnant on the pill? Even my doctor was taken by surprise. After the results came back from my second blood test that I was pregnant, he made me go back the following Monday to check my HCG levels. He wanted confirmation before telling me, and even then it took almost two days before he was convinced there weren't any mistakes." This time she ventured a glance in his direction, relieved not to see any judgement in his eyes.

"Greg was only there 11 days when the bomb went off. One of his buddies from Pendleton had been there six months already. Greg told him if anything happened to him, to make sure I got this letter he wrote. You know, the one every loved one dreads receiving."

Gunny just nodded.

"Well, Dave was scheduled to go home on leave four days after it happened. He thought Greg would prefer he hand deliver the letter. By the time he gave it to me, it...it was too late to go to the funeral." Beth tried to bat back the tears that welled in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay if you want to cry. My mother says it's good for the soul." Gunny ventured to gently rub her forearm, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

"But it's hell on my uniforms," she tried to smile.

"What do you think Greg would have wanted you to do?"

"I think the idea of being a father would have scared the hell out of him, but the way he loved life, I think he'd have been doing somersaults across Iraq."

"Then why the doubts?"

Beth looked up at him as though he'd just grown another foot taller. "You mean besides the obvious like: I'm on an E6 budget, get transferred around the world at the drop of a hat, and am an only child so the only support is my mother, who I love to death, but this isn't her baby. Or the other stuff like, what are my superiors going to think, how will this affect my career, can I even have a career as a single mom of an infant, and how am I ever going to teach him or her what a great guy their dad was?" Beth rolled her eyes annoyed with herself for wanting to cry again. Damn hormones.

"Those are all valid questions, but you wouldn't be the first single parent in the Navy. It can be done. Don't discount the value of friendships." Gunny smiled at her again. "And if you're worried about what Captain Rabb will think. I'm sure both he and the Colonel will be delighted for you. I wouldn't expect anything less from them than their full support. Who knows, maybe their teenage ward could help baby-sit?" Gunny chuckled.

"I'm sure that'll go over really well." Beth shook her head.

"You haven't told the Captain yet have you?"

"No."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I guess until I have a few more answers. Although, if I wait too much longer, he'll figure it out by himself. I already need a rubber band to close the button on my skirt."

Gunny snorted with amusement. "That must be the universal solution to first trimester expansion."

"It works," she shrugged.

"Which questions are you still concerned about?"

"Just one really. I'm not sure being raised by a single mom in the Navy is the best thing for this baby." Beth took a long deep breath, she'd never said that out loud before.

"What do you mean? I thought you said you'd made up your mind to have the baby?"

"I have. I didn't say that meant I was going to raise him." Glad to see the waitress arrive with their food, Beth took advantage of the interruption to suggest, "Let's just enjoy our dinner."

"Smells great." Gunny found it hard to smile. He understood what she wasn't saying. He had no right to push the conversation, but he was concerned about her. Thinking straight with hormones running amuck could be a challenge in and of itself, but making choices with raging hormones and struck with grief as well, that had to be hell on a person.

** Chapter 22**

**Rabb Residence**

**Later that night**

"This is interesting." Mac listened to the answering machine while Harm hung up their coats.

"What is it?" He walked towards Mac in the kitchen setting Mattie's dinner on the table.

"Lady Sarah Brighton. She needs to talk to me."

Her face contorted in complete curiosity, Mac picked up the phone and dialed the number left on the message.

"Yes, Lady Brighton, please... Yes, Sarah Rabb calling." While waiting, Mac stared at the answering machine as if it might give her some further insight into the unexpected phone call.

"Sarah! So glad you got my message. I've been trying to get a hold of my brother and he's not answering his mobile."

"What can I do for you Lady Brighton?"

"Oh, surely we've passed that point?" she laughed into the phone. "Call me Sadie, all my friends do."

"Sadie?" Mac had never heard that nickname for Sarah.

"When I was a child I saw Barbra Streisand's Funny Girl a few hundred times before I was ten. My favorite song was Sadie, Sadie, Married Lady. So, I got the nickname Sadie, and it stuck." Her laughter carried through the phone again.

"How can I help you?"

"The brothers rang earlier. They want to invite you and your 'friend' to a little impromptu soiree they're throwing tomorrow night and wanted to know how to reach you."

"What did you tell them?" A twinge of concern skitted up Mac's spine.

"I said he couldn't possibly expect me to know your phone number off the top of my head, but that I would work out where I scribbled down which hotel you were at and would have you give him a call if you and Victor were free."

"Good job, Sadie," Mac sighed with relief.

"I've learned a thing or two from Darrel through the years." Sadie's frequent laughter was almost contagious. Mac couldn't help but wonder how such a fun loving person was related to someone as stiff as Inspector Darrel Baskin. It just didn't fit.

"Let me talk this over with Harm and your brother, and I'll get back with the Habershams. Where can I reach them?"

Lady Brighton gave Mac the contact information on how to reach the brothers. Mac quickly explained what the phone call was about to Harm, and then dialed Baskin's number.

"Baskin, here."

"Oh, good. Have you heard from your sister yet?"

"Just hung up with her. So you've been invited to a masquerade ball?"

"Sadie didn't mention THAT." Mac's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Well, I don't know what's up, but this could be a good time to pick up some additional information. There's a wonderful costumer not far from your husband's office."

"I'll take care of it in the morning."

"I have a few appointments first thing, but I can meet with you and the Gunny around 11am. We can go over any details then."

"Fine. I'll be calling Albert back now. Let him know we're coming."

"Jolly good. See you tomorrow." Baskin hung up the phone. He wasn't totally sure whether this was a good or bad thing. Just in case, he'd better keep his fingers crossed. Gunny and Mac were good. He knew that for sure, but he also knew if anything went wrong, an angry Captain Rabb was not something he wanted to see any time in his future.

"You realize I'm not letting you two go alone this time?" Harm commented as soon as Mac hung up the phone.

"Harm, Gunny and I know what we're doing. It's just a party." Mac didn't want to admit she'd feel better if Harm was there, but it was just too risky.

"Mac, I can't watch you this time through closed circuit cameras. No one can. Marines always have back up. I'm going. Call Lady Brighton back and ask her the best way for me to tag along." Harm placed his finger on her mouth before she could speak. "Please." Kissing the top of her head, he stepped back to let her make the call.

By the end of the night Mac felt as though she'd just coordinated a major offensive. She'd spoken with Lady Brighton who said she could arrange for the Captain to tag along as her guest without raising any suspicions. Sadie was known for picking up strays. After all, that's why Gunny and Mac were so believable.

Mac had also spoken with Gunny about the 1100 meeting, and needing to meet her at the costumers when they opened at 0900. She filled him in on as many details as she had. Apparently the little soiree was indeed an official masquerade ball. According to the brothers it was in honor of Gunny and Mac, or Victor and Sarah. A belated celebration of Halloween.

Not only did they need to choose an appropriate costume, they would need to go to a specialty shop for a mask. For reasons Mac couldn't understand, the mask was as important a part of the evening as the actual costume. Awards would be given for each. The more elaborate, the better. Hopefully they could fit it all in before 1100.

** London Headquarters**

**Harm's outer office**

**1115 Next morning**

Gunny and Mac came walking briskly up to Beth's desk.

Beth snapped to attention as Mac approached her. "They're waiting for you ma'am, Gunny."

"Thanks Beth. Would you put these somewhere for us?" Mac pointed to Gunny who handed Beth four rather large hatboxes. At least Beth thought they were hatboxes.

She and Gunny were just getting ready to leave the pub when he got the call from Mrs. Rabb last night. He hadn't been free to give her any details, but he did mention needing to meet the Colonel, as he keeps calling her, first thing in the morning. He was at least able to tell her it was related to Seaman Moore's case.

She had a feeling whatever was in these boxes was directly related to last night's phone call. Accepting the four boxes, she almost blushed when she spotted the short wink Gunny gave as he released the boxes and followed Mac into Harm's office.

Baskin stood to greet Mac and Gunny as they entered the room. "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Rabb, Gunny. You two ready for the next show?"

"As ready as we can be," Mac smiled, greeting everyone before sitting down. "Sorry we're late. It couldn't be helped. The old shopkeeper was a charming fellow, but obviously has never had a schedule to follow in his life."

"Did you have better luck with the costumer?" Baskin inquired.

"Yes, actually. The moment I opened my mouth, before I could get past 'Good morning,' he informed us he had the perfect costumes and took off into the back room. Twenty minutes later we were being fitted as Bonnie and Clyde."

"I agree," Baskin chuckled. "You would most likely make an excellent Bonnie and Clyde."

Mac looked at the good Inspector, debating exactly how to take the comment, settling on accepting it as a complement.

"Your husband was just explaining to me that you've persuaded my sister to arrange for him to tag along this evening." Baskin marveled at the Captain's protectiveness for his wife. He couldn't help but wonder if this was something new that came with the wedding ring, or had they always been like this.

"As long as he brings his wife, she didn't think there would be any problem. Apparently she drags new couples out to parties often," Mac shrugged.

"His wife?" Baskin glanced from Harm back to Mac. "Won't that pose a bit of a problem?"

Everyone in the room made an obvious effort not to smile.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced." Meg scooted her chair and reached over extending her hand to the Inspector. "I'm Megan Rabb."

** Chapter 23**

"You are a friendly lot, aren't you?" Baskin shook his head. "I suppose the more back up the better. This should be a friendly night of reconnaissance, but you never know what might happen."

Harm couldn't believe he was actually agreeing with Baskin, but there was no way he was going to give the man the satisfaction of voicing it.

"We'll be attending as Vice-Admiral Nelson and his wife," Harm explained. " Did you have any trouble with our masks?" he asked his wife. His real wife.

"That was part of the delay. As I mentioned, the old shopkeeper wasn't happy about turning them over without a fitting first."

"You're kidding?" Meg chuckled.

"Masquerade Galas are huge events in England. The costumers take their jobs seriously," Baskin contributed.

"I know, but a fitting for a mask?" Meg frowned.

Baskin merely shrugged. There was no way to explain centuries of social traditions to a people who couldn't understand why the Queen still wore hats. They probably didn't even have milliners anymore in the Americas.

**Habersham Hall**

**Outside London**

**1700 hours**

"This is some shack," Gunny remarked quietly to Mac as they walked past the two gentleman checking names off a list.

"Sadie tells me it's their dad's place, the family estate. The two brothers each have a nice flat in some posh neighborhood in London." Mac leaned into Gunny so not to be overheard by others.

"Any sign of our hosts?" Gunny scanned the room.

"Who can tell with all these masks?" Mac looked around as well. "Sadie says she and her husband are here as Louis and Marie Antoinette. Any sign of them?"

"Unfortunately, I think so."

"Unfortunately?" Mac looked at him a little oddly.

"Yes, ma...Sarah. If I'm not mistaken, that couple on the far right side of the room are Louis and Marie, and so is that couple just over to your left by the punch bowl, and there's another couple back by the ice sculpture that might be..." Turning his head slightly, he reconsidered, "Actually..." Closing one eye. "Maybe that's Henry the Eighth and a wife."

Mac laughed out loud. "I hate to break this to you, but the two kings don't look anything alike."

"Maybe not in history, but in that costume, who knows?" Gunny was still staring at the overweight King Louis devouring whatever delicacy was under the impressive sculpture across the room.

"Here comes Admiral Nelson accompanied by what I expect is the right King and Queen of France." Mac nudged Gunny.

"And they're accompanied by two... are those mimes, ma'am?"

"Looks like it."

"Sarah dear, how nice to see you again. Your costume is just stunning! You too, Victor, you do look dapper. The roaring twenties suit you. We simply must find some time for tea before you leave." Sadie laid it on thick. "May I present some of your countrymen, Captain Harmon Rabb and his wife Megan." Gesturing back to Mac, "Victor Harmon and Sarah MacIntire." Sadie watched the two couples make initial introductory small talk, wishing she could see the faces behind the masks. Then she shifted her gaze to watch their hosts taking in the entire scene.

Nudging past Harm and Meg, and stepping in a little closer to Mac. "I'm afraid we're allowed only one opportunity to speak this evening in order to thank each of our guests for coming. The remainder of the time will have to be spent in character," one of the two brothers explained.

"That will be a shame," Mac volunteered. "I was looking forward to visiting again." Without overdoing it, Mac made an effort to really put on the charm, and flaunt the dress, or what there was of it.

"Not to worry. Another opportunity will present itself. I promise," the other brother added.

Mac regretted she had not yet learned to recognize each brother by his voice, but tonight it wouldn't make much difference as the rest of the evening would be spent in silence. At least for her prime suspects.

Before Mac could respond, the same brother had gestured rather mechanically for a dance, which she eagerly accepted.

It had been a long night. Gunny and Mac spent a brief amount of time getting 'acquainted' with the Rabbs before working the crowd. Communicating with the brothers was virtually impossible in light of their costumes. Mac had tried dancing several times with each of them, but couldn't get either of them to speak a word.

After being on her feet for almost three hours, she was delighted when Captain Rabb asked Gunny if he'd object to allowing him a dance with Miss MacIntire. As Gunny and Meg moved along the floor, Mac took Harm's arm and followed him, gladly slipping into his open arms, resisting the urge to lean into his shoulder.

"You look tired?" Harm whispered.

"How can you tell with this thing?" Mac tapped the ornate mask she'd been wearing, then casually draped her arm around his shoulder again.

"Maac, I don't need to see your face. I KNOW you."

Mac didn't have to see his face either to know he'd just arched his eyebrow in that sexy little maneuver that so often melted her like butter in the summer sun. "Sorry. Yes. I'm tired. A little frustrated too."

"Now, I'm the one who's sorry." Harm had been resisting the temptation to pull her closer. He wanted desperately to kiss away her stress.

"I wish I could put my finger on what's bothering me." Mac pressed her lips tightly, her mind trying desperately to grab hold of whatever was teasing her thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Harm stiffened slightly. He could feel the tension in her body, her mind working, trying to make sense of something he knew nothing about.

"It's bad enough we can't talk to Albert or Oliver, but ever since my last dance with Frick or Frack..."

Harm stifled a short chuckle.

"Well it's true. I have no idea which brother is which, but that's not the point. This last dance something wasn't right. I had this nagging feeling and I couldn't quite put my finger on it."

Harm caught a glimpse of one of the brothers across the room making his way out onto the Veranda. Harm had been watching him so intently, he hadn't heard all of what Mac said, and shifted slightly, almost stepping on her foot. "Sorry, dear. I mean Miss MacIntire."

Returning to the game of dancing with a stranger, "I'm usually a better dancer than that," he grinned impishly at her.

"So, I've heard," Mac tried to control the grin that threatened to spread across her face when it suddenly hit her. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Harm could see her mind working at the speed of light, finally putting the pieces together. The question now was, what pieces?

"Where's Gunny?" Grabbing Harm's hand, she quickly headed off in Meg and Gunny's direction.

Almost startling Gunny with her sudden appearance, Mac possessively grabbed Gunny by the arm, "We have to talk, now." She led him off the floor, Meg and Harm following closely behind to a somewhat private spot in the corner.

"I think we've been had," she said seriously

"What are you talking about, marine?" Harm moved a little closer to his real wife.

"I couldn't figure out what was wrong. Each time I danced with the brother with the green mask, we glided easily across the floor. This last time we danced, he didn't move much. There was hesitation in his motion."

"What are you saying, ma'am?" Gunny shook his head, not quite following her.

"I don't think I was dancing with the same brother. I think he's an imposter. A temporary fill-in."

"Mac, are you sure?" Meg interjected, an idea of where Mac might be going with this raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Yeah, I think so." Turning to Gunny. "Remember how you told the two brothers the days of David Niven and Cary Grant were gone?"

"Yes."

"We need to call Baskin, now. I'll bet my bottom dollar they're hitting the Brighton place as we speak."

** Chapter 24**

"Slow down, Mac. I'm not following you." Harm had no idea what she was trying to prove.

"Gunny gave them the challenge. He told them the days of David Niven and Cary Grant are gone. You remember the Pink Panther?"

"Yes, you've made me watch it often enough."

"The heist was pulled off during the masquerade party." Meg filled in Mac's next sentence. Her mouth left hanging open, hit with sudden understanding.

"Exactly! Remember in To Catch a Thief, everyone thought Cary Grant was wandering silently around the guests when in fact..."

"He was on the roof waiting to catch the real burglar," Harm chimed in.

"To show me how good they are, they not only took the challenge, they're mimicking the movies I mentioned as well. The days of David Niven and Cary Grant aren't gone." Gunny pressed his lips tightly and straightened his shoulders. "I think we'd better find our brothers and make sure."

"No, you and Meg ask Sadie where the nearest phone is. Call Baskin, tell him what we suspect. Mac and I will go check out our so called mimes." Harm silently cursed these absurd costumes. None of the four had anyplace to keep even identification, never mind a cell phone.

"I saw the brother in red going out the door that way." Harm tugged at Mac's arm. Pulling her into an acceptable hold, he briskly danced her across the floor and out the veranda door.

Pleased to have spotted the two men together, leaning against the rail, Mac would have given anything for a listening device, or to be a fly at their side.

"Let's try not to make a scene. Just see if you can get one of their masks off." Harm leaned into her quietly.

"Oh sure, like stealing a man's mask won't make a scene." Mac took a deep breath and walked closer to the supposed brothers.

"You know, guys, I think it's terribly unfair that I don't know who I'm dancing with." Mac sidled up next to the brother in green. Shifting slightly to her left, she tilted herself, dropping her left hand on his hip, leaning in giving the man a bird's eye view of her now heaving cleavage.

Shrugging casually, the two men appeared to be matched bookends. Harm moved between them, positioning himself to grab for the one while Mac made her move on the other. The moment her guy's eyes inevitably darted down to gawk at Mac's ample assets, she reached up with her right arm and pulled the mask free.

"That's against the rules, Laidy," a rather thick cockney accent let slip, grabbing the mask and quickly putting it back in its place.

"You fool!" the other man shouted, lunging awkwardly at Harm.

The first imposter grabbed Mac's left arm away from his hip with his free arm and spun her around. "Now what do we do with 'em?" Holding her arm pinned behind her back, he was stunned to see Harm and the other man in an all out tussle on the ground.

Before he had time to take inventory of whose arms were whose, and who appeared to have the upper hand, he felt a painful weight come crashing down on his instep, just before he was flipped around and met with a sturdy right cross.

"Never restrain a woman," Mac sneered at the fallen man just as Harm flung his nemesis over the rail into a patch of thorny bushes.

Shaking out the soreness in his right hand, "We better get a hold of Baskin, fast. It looks like you're going to be right on this one."

"Already done, sir." Gunny came rushing up to his side. "Inspector Baskin is on his way to his sister's, and I've told the valet to pull the car up out front. The Lakelands is only about twenty minutes from here."

"What do you mean from here?" Harm was still shaking off the sting in his right hand as two of Baskin's men who had been lurking in the background went scurrying past to restrain the imposters.

"He called his men staking out the house. They're not answering his radio call. They checked in fifteen minutes ago, and they're not due to check in for another forty-five." Gunny didn't have to say anything else, Harm knew what that meant. They were closer to Lakelands than Baskin and his men.

Meg came running up, "Car's ready." Looking over as one of the police tried to revive the man Mac had apparently knocked out, she looked up at Harm and Mac as they hurried past her, "I always miss all the fun."

**Country road**

**Near The Lakelands**

"It's just around the next bend," Fred informed the passengers.

"Better turn off the lights," Harm instructed the driver. Lady Brighton had insisted they bring her driver or there was no way they'd get to her place in a hurry on unfamiliar roads in the middle of the night. After only a few minutes, Harm realized she'd been right.

"How many ways onto the estate are there?" Harm looked around at the dark countryside. Not a street lamp in sight. Any burglars dream.

"One main gate. There's a servant's portal twenty feet or so off to one side," Fred explained.

"Any way onto the property besides the main gate?" Gunny asked before Harm could.

"I suppose if one were athletically inclined they could scale the wall at any point, but they wouldn't get far."

"Why is that?" Mac inquired.

"The alarm system has laser beams around the perimeter as well as cameras. Someone scaling the wall would break the beam and be spotted rather quickly."

A collective sigh could be heard. It was unlikely Albert and Oliver would go in the front gate, and from the looks of it, this wall went around a long ways.

Before any of them could come up with a plan for the next step, Fred slowed the vehicle. A flurry of activity and bright lights filled the road ahead.

Spotting the flashing lights of police cars, Harm silently cursed their bad luck. What ever had gone down had undoubtedly scared off their prey. Having gotten as close as possible, all four of them descended from the car, Harm leading the way towards the activity.

"That will be far enough, sir?" the policeman quickly scanned the approaching crowd and their wardrobe. "I'll have to ask you to please return to your car. We'll be finished here shortly, and then you can carry on."

"We're going to the Brighton Estate. Anyway you can let us by?"

Surprised by the American accent. "Just what might you be wanting at the Lakelands?" the officer asked suspiciously.

"We're friends returning from a party. This is the Brighton's regular driver." Harm didn't need this. He needed to get to the house.

"Have you some identification?"

"Not on these costumes," Harm answered sincerely, his frustration showing.

Another police car pulled up, "Just in time George. Watch these three, they may be part of it."

"Part of what?" Harm asked rather annoyed as the two new officers corralled Meg, Gunny and Mac.

"You come with me." Stepping behind Harm, he nudged him forwards. "May have some more," he called ahead to his partner.

Looking up at the Vice-Admiral's costume, the obviously senior officer blanched recognizing they were undoubtedly not part of the burglary ring. "My apologies, sir. This is the first burglary Lawrence here has ever stumbled on. He hasn't learned yet that burglars tend to avoid drawing attention to themselves."

"Thank you. We're in a hurry to get back to the Brighton place."

"You have business with the Brightons?"

Before Harm could answer, he could hear Baskin's voice carrying on across the street. He'd let the two policemen who had been holding the others have it right between the eyes and then turned, briskly making his way in Harm's direction.

Waving his badge in the older officer's face, not quite at Harm's side yet. Baskin hollered, "What the bloody hell is going on here?"


	4. Chapter 25 the end

**Keep One Eye on the Road**

** Chapter 25**

"One of the neighbors around the bend went to the chemists for his wife earlier this evening and saw this car just sitting by the side of the road." He tilted his head, nodding at the car a few feet behind him. "He had to fix a flat tire before returning and got concerned when he saw the car still sitting here. Normally these roads are dead quiet after dark."

Harm looked at Baskin, both were impatient for the man to get to the point.

"The neighbor decided to call the police about the suspicious vehicle. Spotted those two walking away from the wall as we pulled up. Looked to me like one of them tossed something into the backseat as we got closer."

This time when Baskin and Harm glanced at each other, their eyes were bright with hope. They couldn't have been that lucky?

"Turns out these two jokers came from The Lakelands, without permission, if you know what I mean."

"Got any proof?" Baskin asked anxiously.

"Caught them red-handed. They tossed the bag of jewels in the back seat. Worth more money than I'll ever see in my lifetime," the older man shook his head.

Gunny, Mac, Meg, and Lord and Lady Brighton walked up behind Harm. The Brightons had tried to wait behind for news, but curiosity had gotten the better of them. They had pulled up shortly after Inspector Baskin.

"A party in my own front garden and I wasn't invited," Sadie teased.

"Beg your pardon Lady Brighton, but we caught these two blokes trying to make off with your belongings," the officer announced proudly.

"Well done. I always knew we were safe in your hands." Sadie winked knowingly at her brother, then turned to fully face him. "I suggest you do what ever you have to do, we'll move the rest of this little gathering inside."

It wasn't long before Sadie had everyone settled with a drink in hand. "I'm sorry that took so long." She handed the last drink to Gunny. "Obviously there's no help at two o'clock in the morning," she shrugged one shoulder.

"You should have let us help," Mac repeated.

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly capable of making a few drinks." Sadie took a seat by her husband.

"The policeman mentioned they caught the boys with your jewels, but I thought Darrel had said you were putting them in the bank vault?" Harm directed at Sadie.

"We did. What they snatched were copies. Good copies, but copies. I rarely leave England with the real things. Whenever we travel abroad, I bring the faux pieces."

"Sorry that took so long." Darrel Baskin came rushing into the room.

"How does it look?" Mac asked, setting her drink down.

"We've got them. What is that expression...dead to rights?"

"That's the one," Mac grinned from ear to ear.

"You can expect paperwork at your office in the morning. All charges against Seaman Moore will be dropped expeditiously. Here's to finally nabbing Britain's most elusive duo." Baskin raised his glass.

"Cheers," the room chorused.

**London Headquarters**

**Following wednesday**

**Harm's office **

"You have no idea how much I'm going to hate seeing you leave." Harm leaned back in his chair.

"It's nice to know we still make a good team," Meg smiled. "Any word on replacements?"

"I'm expecting a file this afternoon on who will be taking your place. Actually, who's replacing Lt. Phillips. I'm still waiting to hear on my other requests for personnel."

"Harm, things are really coming together since I've been here. Gunny has the office running like clockwork. Even Perkins is starting to catch on."

"I've got you to thank for that. I could talk to him till I'm blue in the face. Even though he seems to be gleaning a small amount of understanding from watching you, it's not enough. I need a couple of good versatile attorneys. Ones that can lead an investigation when necessary. JAGman investigations are still something this office is required to do."

"Well, you know I love being closer to Tom I certainly wouldn't object to coming back after Captain Harding returns from maternity leave. I mean, you have to admit, things always seem to happen when you're around," Meg's eyes twinkled brightly as she grinned at her old friend and colleague.

"So, I've been told," Harm chuckled back.

"I've got a few more things to take care of before I secure for the day. Everyone is briefed on the pending cases. Just in case, I only gave Perkins prosecution cases."

Harm rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"My flight leaves at 1600, so..." Meg stood up to make her leave, when Harm came walking around the desk.

"It's been fun, take care, Meg." Harm stepped up close to her.

"You too, Harm. You too." Ignoring protocol and falling back on a longtime friendship, Meg threw her arms around Harm for a goodbye hug.

Pulling back, Meg started for the door when Beth buzzed him on the intercom, "Sir, Mrs. Rabb is here. She says it's important."

"Send her right in," Harm replied.

Having already reached the door, Meg pulled it open before Mac had grabbed the doorknob.

"Perfect timing," Harm smiled at his wife. "Meg was just leaving."

"I'm glad I caught you. I know we did this last night, but." Mac reached out and gave Meg a hug as well. "You take care of yourself, and next time you and ... have some leave time, give us a call."

"Will do, Mac." Nodding her head at her old friend and his wife, Meg made a hasty exit before she started to do something really stupid, like cry.

"What's up? Beth said it was important?" Harm moved closer to his wife.

"Well, it's not necessarily life or death important," Mac smiled out of one corner of her mouth.

Dropping her hands on Harm's chest, she let her fingers slowly walk up to his shoulder boards. Snaking her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a slow, sweet kiss.

For just a moment, Harm forgot where they were. Wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, he dragged her snuggly against him, willingly falling into the fire of her kiss. He had to force himself to pull back slightly, and catch his breath. The things running through his mind at the moment were totally inappropriate for the CO's office, and with a few more minutes of a kiss like that, he wouldn't care.

"You should know better than to greet me like that at work. I'm going to have to carry my briefcase in front of me the rest of the day." Harm took a slow, deep breath. Just looking at this woman could send him into orbit. A kiss like that would have him ready for action at the drop of a hat.

"I was hoping I could convince you to come home for lunch." Mac was smiling fully now, her arms still draped around Harm, resting on his hips.

Harm looked at her curiously. This was the first time Mac had ever showed up at his office in an obviously romantic mood.

Her fingers now doodling lazy circles across his six, her mouth placed a moist, noisy kiss on the v of his chest, before she let her tongue slip out and lick a slow trail along his collarbone.

All the blood in his brain had rushed south. Whatever Harm had scheduled today for the Navy, suddenly had no importance of any kind. The only thing he wanted at the moment was to take his wife someplace very private, and eating lunch had nothing to do with it.

Taking another deep breath, Harm looked down at his wife. "What's up?" rolling his eyes, "Besides me."

"It's time." Mac grinned with a bright twinkle in her eye.

"Time?"

"You know, to put all that practice to work." Mac raised an eyebrow.

All the blood in his body was still pooled in his groin. Harm couldn't have come to a valid conclusion if his life depended on it. Staring at her blankly, he saw her chuckle and roll her eyes at him.

"I took the little test. I'm ovulating," Mac explained more clearly.

Harm's eyes opened wide in understanding. Pulling away from Mac, he walked around to his desk and looked down at his calendar. Nodding his head, he grabbed his cover and his wife's hand. Kissing her quickly on the forehead, he led her out the door. He knew if he'd dared to kiss her on the mouth they'd have to inaugurate his desk.

"James, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. Unless there's an explosion at the White House, I don't want to be disturbed." Harm tried not to grin too broadly. As much as he loved making love to his wife, the thought of making a baby was sending a giddy thrill up his spine that overwhelmed him with an insane urge to skip out of his office.

"Understood, sir." Beth bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure, but she had a feeling the only business on her bosses mind was monkey business.

Slipping out the side door of the building towards their street, Harm took firm hold of Mac's hand. "Ready to make a baby, Mrs. Rabb?"

"Ready, Mr. Rabb."

The End, for now.


End file.
